Behind Closed Doors
by MildlyInsane
Summary: Alternate Universe - Eddie Kaspbrak, an orphan who has been being passed from one abusive foster home to the next, ends up in a group home for teenage boys, where Henry and Patrick also live. The older boys are incredibly abusive towards Eddie, who struggles to trust anyone, until Richie Tozier moves in one day.
1. Chapter 1

_**Behind Closed Doors**_

**Summary: Alternate Universe - Eddie Kaspbrak, an orphan who has been being passed from one abusive foster home to the next, ends up in a group home for teenage boys, where Henry and Patrick also live. The older boys are incredibly abusive towards Eddie, who struggles to trust anyone, until Richie Tozier moves in one day.**

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 1**

**xxxxxx**

"This is the place, Eddie." Mrs. Powell noted in a gentle voice as she climbed out of the car. Eddie reluctantly did the same. They both stood still for a moment, looking up at the building, which looked kind of just like a generic two-story house... except kind of boxy. It looked sort of more like a tiny school. It was by no means a large house... It just didn't look comfortable like a house would. It looked more like a place of business. It looked cold and impersonal.

Eddie flinched softly as his case-worker slammed her door behind him. He swallowed and turned toward the car, wishing he could jump back inside and just live in there. He was so tired of moving from place to place, encountering terror after terror.

"Come on." Mrs. Powell smiled slightly, walking around the front of the car and placing her hand on Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie inhaled a sharp breath and leaned away, but Mrs. Powell couldn't take a hint and kept her hand firmly planted on his arm.

He had a theory she actually wasn't a bad person. She meant well, sort of... just maybe she was a bit unobservant, or to put it bluntly, a bit stupid - she didn't notice things that were obvious... Or maybe they were only obvious to him, since it had been his life since almost before he could remember. Maybe he was expecting too much of her... Or maybe since it was her job to notice these things, she should have picked up on it by now.

Eddie felt he exhibited all sorts of signs of abuse and she just never seemed to notice any of those little details. She was over-worked, tired, probably wanted to help the kids she worked with, but just didn't have the attention span, time, or resources to do it. She seemed to never notice anything, and her promises felt hollow - like maybe she wished she could help, she wanted to say she would... but she just didn't...

"This home has two other boys living there already. They're a little older than you are, but you should be able to make friends just fine." Mrs. Powell promised, practically having to push Eddie to get him to walk up the front steps along with her.

She reached out and rang a door bell next to the door and then they both stood there and waited.

Eddie hoped no one answered. He hoped they could just go get back in the car and leave. This place was uncertain. When Eddie was in limbo, between foster homes, he was with Mrs. Powell. He knew what to expect from her. She wasn't perfect, but she was safe, as far as he knew. She hadn't ever done anything significant that scared him. She never hurt him or even yelled at him. He wouldn't really mind just staying with her until he turned eighteen. It wouldn't be a fairy tale ending for him, but it would be safe, something semi-familiar. He didn't know what he was getting into here...

"Morning. I suppose you must be Edward." A large, balding, sweaty-looking man forced a smile as he opened the front door and held his hand out for Eddie to shake.

Eddie swallowed nervously, but reached out and took the man's hand. He wasn't sure what to say. He hoped he wouldn't be expected to say anything. He was over talking to people. He never wanted to talk to, or look at, or be around another human being ever again. He wanted Mrs. Powell to take him back to his temporary living situation, where he didn't have a family, wasn't loved, was basically ignored... but at least no one hurt him.

"Well, come on in." The man gestured toward the inside of the house. "I'm Mr. Salinger. The boys who live here are Henry and Patrick. You'll meet them later when they get out of school. Come on into the kitchen and we'll talk everything out. Sarah, you're free to stay as long as you want." He nodded toward Mrs. Powell. They must have already met each other before Eddie got here. He hoped so... for her to trust this random guy to just take Eddie away from her.

Eddie swallowed as he walked through the hallway, staring around the space with wide, nervous eyes. He was starting to realize now how much he didn't want to leave Mrs. Powell. Not only did he just not want to be here because he didn't know this man... He didn't want to go to a new home at all - with anyone, anywhere. He didn't want to be anywhere but with Mrs. Powell. It wasn't like he really trusted her. She didn't feel like a mother to him. He didn't think she loved him, and he didn't love her either. He didn't know her that well... But he knew her better than he knew this guy or the boys who lived here. Mrs. Powell wasn't that warm of a person, but he knew who she was at least. He knew he'd been alone with her in cars, in a hospital room, in a police station... and she never did anything mean. She had had the chance to hurt him if she wanted to, many times, and she never did. That was about as much as he could hope for in a person. He didn't know if this new guy or the other boys might do something to him. He didn't want to find out.

"So, Edward, we've got some rules here, but they aren't too hard to follow. They're strictly enforced. I'm not gonna be a pushover about it... You do have to follow them... But they're easy. We won't have a problem if you just respect the house rules." Mr. Salinger explained as he pulled out a chair for Eddie.

Eddie looked over at Mrs. Powell, waiting for her to sit down in the space next to him before sitting down too.

"Want something to drink?" Mr. Salinger asked. "We got coffee, Sarah. Orange juice, milk, or water for Edward." He nodded toward Eddie.

"I'll have coffee, thanks. Two sugars. You can just call him Eddie." She nodded toward Eddie. "You want a drink, Eddie?" She asked, smiling and nodding at him like he was a tiny child.

Eddie shook his head no. He didn't want to accept anything from this man. He felt awkward about it. He didn't want to feel like he owed him anything. He had a foster-father once who felt like Eddie owed him a lot more than Eddie was willing to give, just for letting Eddie live with him, when Eddie didn't want to live there anyway! He didn't want this man to feel he had the right to expect any favors. Not the type of favors Eddie's former foster-dad used to ask for.

Mr. Salinger made Mrs. Powell's coffee, then sat back down across the table from her and Eddie. "So mostly, you've got to be respectful of this house - it is a house, whether it seems like it or not. Might feel like a school or a club house sometimes with all the other boys goofing around - we've got an application for another boy to possibly join us in the next week too... So it does feel like a never ending slumber party sometimes, but it is a house. We need to live like a family first, friends second."

Eddie stared silently. He knew he wasn't personally going to cause trouble. He wasn't going to make friends with the other boys or do anything he wasn't supposed to. He was going to lie low, try to stay out of the way, and just hope no one did anything awful to him.

"So we've got chores. Not too much. It's reasonable. We can try to find you something you don't absolutely hate. I consider that fair, but you do have to help around the house. Obviously no drugs or alcohol of any kind. No sex." He smirked like it was a joke.

Eddie frowned and stared back.

"You're not old enough for me to have to tell you that though, huh?" Mr. Salinger laughed.

Eddie continued staring.

Mr. Salinger must not have been told about Eddie's past - about his foster-dad. Of course, Eddie didn't even tell anyone most of it. He was removed from that home mostly for the physical abuse. The sexual abuse, though suspected by the social workers, was never confirmed. Eddie didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want anyone to know his foster-dad made him sit on his lap in just his underwear. He didn't want to tell anyone about how his foster-father used to rub his hands all over Eddie, and make Eddie touch him too... or about how the man told Eddie that he had to shower with him to make sure he was getting clean enough, because he didn't trust Eddie to clean himself.

Eddie wasn't stupid. He knew what the man was doing. He knew his foster-dad didn't really think Eddie wasn't cleaning himself properly. Eddie was a very clean person and his foster dad knew it. He just wanted an excuse to see and touch him without his clothes on. It was embarrassing, terrifying, sometimes painful.

Mrs. Powell cleared her throat. "You don't have to worry about Eddie doing anything like that. He's a very good boy." She smiled lightly at Eddie, who couldn't bring himself to smile back. He wanted to throw up. He was feeling increasingly sick, increasingly panicked, really... What if Mr. Salinger was like the last man Eddie lived with? Why would he even mention sex, and laugh about it? What if he did something?

Mrs. Powell was going to leave him here... and the other boys were at school. It would be just Eddie and this strange guy. This pretty big, adult man who Eddie didn't know. Just Eddie, him, and the empty house. If he wanted to do something to Eddie, he'd get a chance as soon as Mrs. Powell left.

Eddie swallowed and blinked back tears as he sat up straighter. He wanted to tell Mrs. Powell not to leave him here. He wanted to get onto his knees and fucking beg her to adopt him. Maybe she wasn't the ideal mother. Maybe she wasn't perfect... She wasn't warm. She wasn't loving... But she wasn't cruel either. She might not love him and hug him and make him feel important, but she wouldn't hit him or touch him inappropriately either. She wasn't his dream come true, but she was better than the uncertainty this house offered.

"Couple more things." Mr. Salinger went on. "Curfew is 8pm. That means you need to be here at eight o' clock. Not eight thirty, not eight o' two. Eight on the dot, or before. And you need to tell me if you're doing anything after school. I always need to know where you are. If you don't tell me in advance, I expect you home right after school. Get your homework done every day. If I catch on that it's not getting done, we'll have to keep you in the house until its done. If you can manage your time by yourself, I'll let you, but part of being allowed to live here is that you've gotta be responsible, and maintain at least average grades. Nothing below a C... but preferably at least a few As and Bs."

Eddie nodded. He could do that. He didn't want to be out after 8pm anyway, and homework was pretty easy for him most of the time.

"Wanna see your room?" Mr. Salinger smiled.

Swallowing nervously again, Eddie nodded.

"You can talk to me, son. You know that, right?" Mr. Salinger frowned as he stood up and stared down at Eddie. "We're gonna be living in the same house for a while, so I figure we could be on speaking terms at the very least."

Shrugging, Eddie looked back. He knew he could... He just didn't want to.

"He's a nice man, Eddie." Mrs. Powell leaned down slightly and spoke in a low voice. "I wouldn't leave you here otherwise."

Eddie nodded, but looked down at the floor. He didn't trust that Mrs. Powell really knew this guy well enough to be sure. Every foster parent he'd lived with was screened and they were supposedly good people too... Until the doors closed.

"Let's go see that room then." Mr. Salinger forced another smile. Eddie could tell it wasn't genuine. Mr. Salinger was annoyed with him. He wanted Eddie to talk. He was offended that Eddie wasn't saying anything.

Eddie nodded again and followed the man toward a set of stairs, feeling panic rising in his chest. Maybe he should make himself talk, so Mr. Salinger wouldn't hate him. He couldn't just stay quiet... He kind of wanted to, because opening up, talking, letting people be nice to him... it all made it easier for them to hurt him. If Eddie seemed comfortable, they'd be comfortable, and once they were comfortable, they could do something mean... But Mr. Salinger was just going to get more angry the longer Eddie didn't say anything back to him. If Eddie still hadn't said anything by the time Mrs. Powell left, what would Mr. Salinger do? Yell at him? Hit him? Burn him with a cigarette? Tell him he had to stand in the corner without his clothes on until he agreed to talk?

"This one's yours." Mr. Salinger opened a door on the second floor, furthest from the stairs. It had two pretty basic-looking twin-sized beds in it. One dresser, and a desk and chair. "Right now you're the only one in it, but when we get the new boy, he'll be sharing it with you. He's your age. I try to assign rooms based on age. Henry's seventeen. Patrick's eighteen. So they're together."

Eddie frowned. If Patrick was eighteen, why was he still here? Eddie was going to live on his own as soon as he turned eighteen. Maybe sooner. He didn't care if he had money or a place to stay... He'd just go live in the train station or in a tent in the woods if he had to. Whatever he needed to do to get away from everyone.

"This is the bathroom. All the boys share it, so be mindful of others, especially in the mornings before school. We can make up a schedule if it becomes an issue." Mr. Salinger went on as he walked back down the hall the way they came. "This one's Henry's and Patrick's room." He gestured toward another room.

Eddie and Mrs. Powell followed as Mr. Salinger showed them the rest of the house. As they went, Mrs. Powell seemed to go out of her way to make over-the-top excited comments about various rooms, commenting how awesome it was that there was a quiet room with comfortable chairs and with so many books (there were only about forty books...) She acted like she was in awe of the fireplace, which Eddie was not allowed to touch... Eddie could tell she was trying to hype the place up - to get him excited or make him feel comfortable, but it just wasn't going to work. Eddie wasn't going to be comfortable until he could live with someone who he actually trusted, until he wasn't scared every single day.

"Alright, Sweetheart... I think that's everything. If you're good to go, I'm going to head out. You've got my phone number." Mrs. Powell reminded Eddie. "Call me if you ever need anything. Remember, you can trust Mr. Salinger too. If you've got a problem, he should be who you go to first... but you can always call me if you're not sure, if you're scared, upset... I won't be mad. You can call me just to talk." She added with a laugh.

Eddie felt his lip shake slightly as he stared at her. He hoped he didn't start crying.

Mrs. Powell frowned, then looked up at Mr. Salinger. "He's got asthma. Stress can bring on an attack, but so can dust, dirt, pollen sometimes. He always carries his inhaler with him, but-"

"I know. I went over the paperwork. We're gonna be fine, right Eddie?" He forced another huge smile.

Eddie nodded breathlessly, squeaking out a tiny. "Yeah."

"So you do talk!" Mr. Salinger laughed, clapping a hand down on Eddie's shoulder so that he flinched slightly, making Eddie regret ever speaking even that one little word. He hated it when people did that - made a big deal about him talking. Obviously speaking up was hard for him. He didn't want a big show made of it every time he managed to force himself to say something.

"Bye, Sweetie." Mrs. Powell smiled a tight smile. "I'll be checking in once a week. Remember to call if you need anything sooner."

Eddie wordlessly waved as she exited, then stared down at the floor.

"Let's go put your stuff in your room, huh?" Mr. Salinger suggested.

Eddie nodded, grabbing his bag and following the man back upstairs.

"If you stay here long-term, maybe you can pick out some sheets and a blanket for yourself. For now you can just use what we have. Patrick's been here almost two years. Henry's been about a year and a half. They've pretty much made this their home." The man explained.

Eddie put his bag carefully on one of the beds, looking nervously back at Mr. Salinger. He hoped there wasn't a right and wrong bed... And if there were, he hoped he chose the right one.

"You don't seem like you have much clothes, but you can take the top two drawers. Leave the bottom ones for Richie." The man suggested. "Assuming everything goes through and he actually ends up coming."

"Is he nice?" Eddie whispered in a low voice.

"Um..." The man shrugged. "Haven't met him. He's your age though. He's gonna have to be nice if he lives here. I don't put up with anything less than nice." He forced big smile.

Eddie swallowed nervously and looked down again. He didn't like how much this man seemed to be throwing smiles around where they weren't warranted or deserved. He was trying too hard. He wasn't being genuine... and that was scary.

"Go on. Top two drawers are yours." The man reminded him. "Can't leave all your stuff in that old bag. You're home now. For the time being at least, this is your house. We don't live outta suitcases here. You unpack your stuff and live in here like it's any old bedroom you'd live in somewhere else."

Glancing toward the dresser, then at his bag, Eddie reached toward it, unzipping it and looking inside. He had four pairs of underwear, two boxer shorts, two pairs of socks, some jeans, two pairs of shorts, and four t-shirts. Eddie didn't even own any long-sleeve shirts or jackets anymore. He picked up a t-shirt and frowned. Why did he have to put it away? He never stayed one place for very long. He'd just have to pack it all back up...

"Put your stuff away, kid..." Mr. Salinger's voice had a very slight edge to it, like if he had to ask Eddie one more time, there was going to be an issue.

Eddie looked up at him, his eyes wide, his breaths a little quick. He wondered what would happen if he just didn't do it. He wondered if the man would hit him.

"Edward." Mr. Salinger's voice rose slightly as he stared a somewhat angry stare and took a step forward.

Gasping softly and flinching back, Eddie quickly grabbed his bag and pulled it against his chest, feeling like he might have to make a run for it. He wasn't fully opposed to that - taking his bag with him and just leaving. Risking it on the streets. He'd done it before. He lasted three days before the police picked him up and forced him to go back to his foster-home.

"Hey..." The guy raised his hands in defense and stepped back. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid... Just put your clothes away. Alright?" He frowned.

"Okay..." Eddie breathed, not taking his eyes off of the man. He felt himself shaking slightly.

"Your foster family wasn't very kind to you, were they?" Mr. Salinger frowned, taking a careful, slower step forward and taking Eddie's bag from him. He carefully started taking Eddie's clothes out of the bag and putting them into the dresser.

Eddie watched Mr. Salinger carefully, waiting until his hand was fully out and away from the bag before reaching in and grabbing a t-shirt, wanting to help, but not wanting to get too close.

"We don't do physical punishment here." Mr. Salinger explained. "Nobody's ever gonna hit you, or do anything cruel to you."

Eddie kept his eyes down as the two of them finished putting away the clothing. He didn't want to talk about any of this. And he didn't trust this man. If Eddie learned any hard, yet valuable lesson during the past years, it was that people who promise they won't hurt you were often the first ones to do exactly that. Mr. Salinger saying he was nice didn't prove that he actually was.

"You wanna help me get dinner ready?" Mr. Salinger asked, placing the last of Eddie's clothes into the drawer and closing it. "Then when Henry and Pat get home, we'll have it all done and we can sit together like a little family. That'd be fun, right?"

Eddie bit his lower lip, but turned toward the man and nodded yes. It wasn't like he had the option to say no. Eddie couldn't afford to be difficult. Difficult kids were frustrating. Frustration brought out violence in even the nicest of the adults Eddie had been forced to live with since his dad died and he got taken away from his mom.

"You got a favorite food, Eddie?" Mr. Salinger asked as he led the way back down toward the kitchen.

Eddie blinked. People didn't normally care what he liked. He wasn't even sure he knew what his favorite food was.

"You gotta have a favorite food." Mr. Salinger went on. "I myself really love hamburgers and fries. You like those?" He glanced over his shoulder at Eddie.

Shrugging, Eddie forced a very slight smile. "Yeah." He whispered.

"We can make it." Mr. Salinger offered. "I got the ingredients already."

"Really?" Eddie stared. That sounded too good to be true... to cook something more than ramen noodles or tv dinners.

"Sure." Mr. Salinger nodded.

Eddie followed him into the kitchen, feeling cautiously optimistic that perhaps things would be different here. Maybe this was all an act... but maybe it wasn't.

**xxxxxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 2**

**xxxxxx**

Dinner was mostly uneventful. After Eddie helped Mr. Salinger cook, Patrick and Henry came home from school and were mostly silent themselves while the four of them ate at a dining room table like the kind of families Eddie saw on tv. Mr. Salinger led the conversation for the most part, and the boys pretty much only answered questions asked directly to them. Eddie wondered if the other boys were normally this quiet or if they just felt weird because Eddie was infringing upon their space.

Eddie couldn't really tell if Henry and Patrick were nice or not just from their dinner conversation. Henry looked kind of mean... and Patrick was pretty quiet, in a way that was a little weird... but Eddie was quiet too. He couldn't judge Patrick for that. He couldn't fairly judge Henry for looking mean either. That's just what his face looked like. Maybe he was actually really nice.

When they were done eating, Mr. Salinger suggested that Patrick and Eddie wash the dishes together while he and Henry folded some laundry. Eddie could tell the man was trying to get the boys to all make friends. It was awkward and forced, but Eddie was too scared to flat out refuse.

"How old are you?" Patrick finally asked once he and Eddie were alone at the sink. Eddie had agreed to wash the dishes while Patrick dried and put them away - since Patrick knew where they all went.

"Thirteen." Eddie answered. He already knew how old Patrick was. Mr. Salinger already told him. He wondered if he should ask just to be polite though.

"I'm eighteen." Patrick answered the question before Eddie could ask it. "You look really young. I was thinking you were like ten or something. But this is a house for teenagers, so I knew you couldn't be."

"Oh..." Eddie looked down at the soapy water in the sink. "Um... I guess I might look younger than I am..." He agreed. Patrick wasn't the first to have told him that. Eddie was pretty small for his age. It seemed to make him a great target for abuse, unfortunately.

"So why you here? Why don't you have parents?" Patrick asked rather bluntly.

Eddie swallowed nervously, scrubbing at a plate and then rinsing it before handing it to Patrick. He didn't like talking about his past. It was painful... But he wondered if he should share with Patrick, get the older boy to share his story too... see if he really might be able to connect with someone, make an actual friendship - something close to what it would be like to have a brother. A good brother - not an abusive foster brother. Eddie felt like he was being naive hoping for that...

But Patrick was in a similar situation as Eddie. Patrick wasn't the biological child of a foster-parent. He was a foster kid too. Patrick also had no family. Maybe he'd been searching for love and care for years just like Eddie had - maybe for quite a bit longer since he was eighteen.

"Where were you before this?" Patrick asked when Eddie failed to answer his first question. "Did you come straight from your parents' house or is this one stop in a long chain of shit?"

Eddie couldn't help a soft laugh. Patrick had described that pretty accurately... a long chain of shit. That sounded about right. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he felt like Patrick might be someone who would understand him. Sharing his life story with this boy didn't seem like as big of a risk as it had just a minute earlier. If anyone would get it, it would be another foster kid, another person who went though something very similar.

"I was at a foster home before this." Eddie finally answered. "I've been to four different ones, and temporary stuff between. My dad died when I was little. I got taken away from my mom a while after... and it's been foster homes ever since."

"Right... I get that." Patrick nodded. "I've been in like six foster homes. They get sick of me fast. My parents died in a house fire. I was sleeping out in my tree house. I was twelve... So I wasn't in there when the fire started. They were..." Patrick shrugged as though it barely bothered him. Of course, that would have been six years ago. It was old news.

"I'm sorry." Eddie whispered, scrubbing his dish rag across another plate.

"It's okay. Things haven't been too bad since then, really. Why'd you get taken from your mom?" Patrick asked.

"Um..." Eddie hesitated, not wanting to tell this boy too many details. He looked up at Patrick, who stared back down at him. Patrick was really tall. He seemed alright though. And his life had been shitty just like Eddie's. His parents died in an accident. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He just had awful luck. Eddie supposed there'd be no harm in just telling him the rest.

"My um... My mom..." Eddie started, looking down, not wanting Patrick to look into his eyes as he explained. "She made me sick on purpose... So she could take me to the doctor and tell everyone how sick I was. She liked the attention, I guess?" He shrugged and forced a laugh.

"Wow. That's fucked up." Patrick frowned.

"I guess so..." Eddie breathed. "I thought I had all these sicknesses. She had me taking pills for all this stuff I didn't really have, and some of the pills I think actually made me sick when I wasn't before. Some of them were gazebos."

Patrick smirked.

"It's not funny." Eddie glared.

"No... I think you mean placebos." Patrick laughed.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. "What'd I say?"

"Gazebos. Like those wooden patio things at parks or in people's backyards." Patrick laughed again. "Sorry though... You're right. It's not funny that she made you sick on purpose."

"Yeah..." Eddie shrugged. "I really do have asthma though."

"You do?" Patrick cocked his head to the side. "Is it bad?"

"Sometimes." Eddie shrugged, handing Patrick another clean plate.

Patrick dried to plate and put it away. "You won't like die from it or anything, will you?"

"I've got an inhaler. I know how to use it, and when to use it." Eddie told him. "I should be fine."

"Good." Patrick smiled.

Eddie smiled back, finishing the last dish and handing it to Patrick. "What about Henry? How'd he end up here?" He wondered.

"His mom left when he was young. And his dad was physically abusive. Used to beat him, yell at him... Really hostile stuff. He lost all the rights to custody of him. That's why Henry's kind of a douche bag." Patrick laughed slightly.

Eddie stared with wide eyes, swallowing nervously. "What does Henry do? Is he mean?"

"He can be." Patrick shrugged. "He's got a lot of pent up rage. His dad was a real dick, and Henry just kinda never got past it. He does seem to target younger kids. I think because he was always the victim with his dad. He wants to feel in control. Just try to stay on his good side."

Eddie nodded. His plan of action now, regarding Henry, was to avoid him as much as possible. That would probably be the wisest response to what Patrick was warning him about.

"Maybe he'll be nice to you though. He and I get along okay." Patrick noted.

"Well, you're not smaller than him." Eddie frowned.

"I'll put in a good word for you." Patrick laughed, turning and heading toward the door. "I gotta go do some homework. You starting school tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Eddie frowned. He had taken the day off to move in here. He actually was going to the same school he had always gone to. Just walking from here instead of where he'd been living before.

"Middle school's right by the high school, so we can walk together." Patrick offered. "You going up to your room?"

"I guess... If there's no other chores or anything I have to do." Eddie stared.

"He'll let you know if there's anything else." Patrick shrugged, leading the way upstairs and walking into his own room. "See ya in the morning."

"See ya..." Eddie forced a small smile then headed down the hall into his own room. He didn't really have anything to do. He had no homework of his own at the moment. He had no books, no paper to write or draw on. He just had his clothing and his inhaler.

So he laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Things at this house were actually eerily calm right now. No one had yelled or shoved him or threatened him. It was so unexpectedly gentle and low-pressure that Eddie almost didn't believe it. Patrick had been nice, Mr. Salinger was nice... It couldn't possibly be real.

Eddie wasn't naive. This wasn't the first time he moved in someplace new with people he didn't know. He understood that there was often a weird honeymoon phase which didn't properly represent how life was actually going to be. He knew just because things were good now didn't mean they would stay good.

His very first foster-home was like that. He actually called the man and woman he lived with there 'Mom' and 'Dad.' He was a lot younger then. He thought because they were nice during the first couple weeks that they were actually nice people in general. He had been wrong.

They started off treating him okay. Then slowly they started being more rough, not letting him eat until they and their older son were finished. Sometimes they ran out and Eddie didn't get anything. When the dad caught Eddie sneaking crackers out of their pantry, the dad would hit him for it. The dad hit him for taking too long in the shower too, for using too much warm water - then he had to shower outside with cold hose water for a week.

Then Eddie outgrew his shoes and they wouldn't buy him new ones. He had to keep wearing the ones that were too small, even when their son got new ones. Eddie complained about his feet hurting at school and a teacher called his foster-mom. He got in a lot of trouble for that... for making her look bad at school... He got some cheap new shoes after that, but he also was forced to stand outside in the snow without shoes on that night, for what he felt like was a really, really long time... and his foster-dad hit him again for that - quite a few times. They said he should feel lucky he had shoes at all - because he wasn't even their child.

Eddie frowned as he continued staring at the ceiling. He wondered what might set Mr. Salinger off... Eddie tried not to be needy, tried not to ask for extra food or new clothes. His showers were quick. He didn't complain at home or at school, kept bruises hidden... He always made sure to quietly do his chores, get his school work done, and generally just stay out of the way. He learned long ago that there were so many ways to piss off a grownup. He tried to avoid all of them at all costs... But sometimes just existing was enough to make a foster-parent want to slap you.

"Hey." A low voice spoke up from Eddie's doorway, startling him from his thoughts.

Eddie breathed in and sat up on his bed, staring toward the voice. Henry stood in the doorway. He didn't look happy, but not necessarily angry either. He just stood and stared.

"Hi." Eddie whispered back. Henry had barely talked at dinner. Patrick said he was mean sometimes. Eddie wasn't sure what to expect from him.

Henry paced into the room, looking around and frowning. "You don't own hardly anything." He noted, subtly closing the door behind him.

Swallowing nervously as he watched the door close, Eddie shook his head. "J-just my clothes..." He agreed.

Henry nodded. "So I gotta talk to you... Set up some ground rules." He started, taking a step toward Eddie.

Eddie pressed his lips together and stared up at him. Henry was pretty tall - maybe normal for his age, but tall compared to Eddie. He had a bit of muscle - again, maybe normal for his age, but compared to Eddie, Henry looked pretty strong. He could hurt Eddie if he wanted to... Hopefully he didn't want to.

"This is my fuckin' house. Okay? I've been here a lot longer than you have. You're getting into my space. I need you to understand that I get priority over you. I've been here longer. I'm older. I'm bigger." Henry started. "When I want to go through the hallway, if you're coming the other way, you move over. If I want to take a shower and you're in there, you fucking get out. If you've got a sandwich and I want it, you hand it over. Get it?"

Eddie frowned, wondering if he should just quietly agree or stand up for himself. It was always a gamble. Sometimes letting someone tell you what to do once was a huge mistake that led to them bossing you around forever. Sometimes arguing back once was a mistake that got you hurt quite a bit.

"Do you fucking get it?" Henry asked again, louder and slower this time.

"Yeah." Eddie finally squeaked, shrinking back. Standing up for himself sounded nice in theory, but with Henry right here, right now, towering over him, yelling at him... He figured it was smarter to just say whatever the older boy wanted to hear.

"And-" Henry went on, reaching down and grabbing the front of Eddie's shirt in a fist. Eddie winced, feeling himself freeze in fear. "You don't fucking tattle on me to Salinger. No matter what. If you piss me off and I punch you and you've got a big bruise on your face, you tell him you got in a fight with somebody at school. Don't tell him, a teacher, any of your dumb ass little friends. Don't you fucking ever tell on me, to anyone, or I'll kill you."

Eddie felt tears stinging his eyes as he stared up at the older boy. "Okay..." He promised. "I'll just stay out of your way... Th-then there won't be any reason for you to do anything to tell about..."

Henry's mouth twitched slightly, as he balled his hand into a fist and suddenly slammed it painfully down against Eddie's ribs.

Eddie let out a small noise, trying hard not to be loud, as he bent forward and blinked back tears. Henry's fist connecting with his ribs had knocked all the breath out of his lungs. Sharp pain shot through his body as he winced a pained breath. He hugged around his stomach, whimpering softly.

"I don't need a fucking reason to do something to you, faggot." Henry growled, grabbing Eddie's arm and pulling him back from his defensive position.

Eddie let out a tiny, choked noise, shaking his head and raising his hands defensively. "I won't tell..." He promised in a small voice. "Don't hit me again..." He added, shrinking down.

"Don't tell me what to do." Henry growled, punching Eddie against his ribs a second time, seemingly even harder than the last.

Eddie bent over again, choking out a breathless cry. Henry was really strong. "Please stop..." He whimpered.

"You keep any bruises that show up hidden, and you keep your mouth shut. You got it?" Henry growled, squeezing Eddie's arm in a hard fist and pulling hard, jerkily forcing him to sit up more fully, then grabbing his face with his other hand.

"Okay..." Eddie whispered, feeling tears stinging his eyes.

Both he and Henry jumped slightly when someone started knocking a the door. Henry quickly let go of Eddie and took a step back away from the bed as Eddie struggled to sniff back and wipe away his tears.

"It's me." Patrick's voice spoke from the other side of the door.

Eddie watched as apprehension seemed to melt off of Henry. He must have known he didn't have to hide anything from Patrick. Maybe he told Patrick not to tell on him too. Maybe he threatened to hurt him like he hurt Eddie. Or maybe he didn't have to threaten Patrick. Maybe Patrick was much more Henry's friend than he was Eddie's. Maybe Patrick wouldn't care that Henry hurt Eddie.

"Can I come in?" Patrick asked.

Eddie looked nervously toward Henry. He didn't know what to say. Was he supposed to pretend Henry never even came in here? Henry said not to tell anyone about anything Henry did... Could he tell Patrick to come in?

Henry must not have cared what Patrick knew or saw. He reached out and opened the door himself. "Hey, Pat. Just getting acquainted with our new friend. Making sure he knows his place. See ya." He walked out.

Eddie sniffed back tears and looked away, not wanting to explain any of this to Patrick.

"You okay, Eddie?" Patrick frowned.

Eddie just stared down at the floor. He knew something good happening for once wasn't realistic. His suspicion that happiness and safety was impossible was turning out to be true... Just like it always did.

**xxxxxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 3**

**xxxxxx**

Eddie kept his eyes on the floor as Patrick stood in the doorway. He wanted Patrick to leave. Even though Patrick seemed nice so far, Eddie wanted him to go. He just wanted to be by himself, so he could look at his ribs, try to figure out if they were broken, hide in a closet or other small space, and let himself cry.

Patrick exhaled as he closed the door behind him, causing Eddie to look up. He didn't like closed doors - not unless he was the only one behind said door.

Shrinking down as Patrick approached, Eddie raised his hands in defense. "Please leave me alone..." He whispered, feeling more tears sting at his eyes. Patrick was just about as big as Henry - a little bit taller and skinnier, but still big enough that Eddie knew if he wanted to hurt him, he could. Eddie had almost felt like he could trust Patrick earlier tonight when they were working on the dishes together, but now he wasn't so sure. Patrick and Henry seemed to be friends. Henry didn't seem worried about hiding the fact that he just punched Eddie - like Patrick knowing wasn't a big deal.

"Did he do something?" Patrick frowned, looking genuinely concerned.

Eddie shook his head as his vision blurred with unshed tears. He wasn't supposed to say. Patrick probably didn't really care. All the stuff before in the kitchen was probably bullshit. Patrick probably told Henry to beat him up.

"What did he do, Eddie?" Patrick persisted, sitting down on the bed next to the smaller boy.

Leaning away, Eddie shook his head again. "Nothing." He squeaked, still avoiding eye contact with the older boy.

"Aw, come on... It's me." Patrick's voice was calm, gentle as he reached down and rested his hand on Eddie's knee.

Eddie inhaled a small breath and stared down at his leg, at Patrick's hand. He felt his heartbeat quicken. It was an innocent enough gesture, but one which people who used to hurt him seemed to all practice. So often a foster father or a foster-mother's boyfriend who would hurt him or try to hurt him would do small things like that first, touching him in an innocent, yet unnecessary way to test the waters...

Swallowing nervously, Eddie gently tugged his leg to the side, but Patrick's hand followed, and his grip tightened.

"You can trust me. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything... and if he told you not to tell, that doesn't apply to me. Henry's my friend, kind of... Tell me what happened. I could talk to him... Explain that you're one of us, and that he should leave you alone. He might listen to me."

Eddie shook his head. "Please just go..." His voice shook. Patrick was wrong. Eddie couldn't trust him. Eddie couldn't fucking trust anyone.

Patrick leaned forward slightly, reaching a gentle hand out and placing his fingers on Eddie's chin, tilting his face up to get a better look at him.

Holding his breath, Eddie let Patrick force him to look up, but kept his eyes averted. He felt his lip trembling as his breaths started getting quicker. The longer Patrick silently stared at him, the more panicked Eddie felt. His throat felt tight and his lungs felt stuck, unable to fully fill with air.

Eddie whimpered softly. He needed his inhaler. He could tell this was turning into an asthma attack. His inhaler was in a fanny pack he kept around his waist at all times besides for when he was sleeping or showering. He felt kind of scared to grab it though. He just wanted Patrick to leave. Eddie could take care of himself. He had been for so long.

Patrick frowned as he leaned down closer so he could see Eddie's eyes better. "You having an asthma attack? Do you need your inhaler? Where is it? I'll get it for you."

Eddie shook his head, reaching down into his fanny pack and grabbing it. "It's here... I'm fine..." He wheezed, reluctantly reaching the inhaler up and taking a much-needed puff of medicine. "I'm okay. You can go..."

"Did he hit you?" Patrick went on, clearly not willing to take no for an answer.

Eddie looked down, swallowed a dry gulp, then finally nodded. Patrick was going to 'help' him whether he wanted it or not.

Maybe Patrick really was a good person. Maybe he just didn't feel right leaving Eddie alone after walking in and seeing him so upset. Maybe Eddie should take what he could get - what looked to be a possible friend in a world full of enemies and people who were just indifferent toward his constant agony. Patrick had a sort of creepy feel to him right now, but Eddie couldn't honestly or fairly claim he really did anything wrong. Eddie was just being paranoid, because it was so dangerous not to be.

"Where'd he hit you?" Patrick asked.

Eddie nervously reached down toward his ribs, touching the front of his shirt lightly with his fingers. It really hurt. "I don't know if he broke my ribs..." Eddie whimpered softly, feeling his tears finally start to fall down his cheeks. "I can't go to the doctor... I can't tell on him..."

"Well, let me see." Patrick offered, reaching toward Eddie's shirt.

"No!" Eddie gasped, grabbing his shirt and holding it protectively down as he flinched back. He didn't let other people move his clothing while he was wearing it. Eddie didn't undress, or even do so much as lift his shirt to expose his stomach unless he was alone. He even undressed for P.E. class in a toilet stall. He was too anxious, felt too vulnerable and exposed otherwise.

Patrick frowned. "I'll just look and make sure they're not broken."

Eddie felt himself shaking as he sniffed back further tears and shook his head. "No..." He whispered, still holding his shirt down.

"Just let me see, Eddie." Patrick stared. "I'll have to tell Mr. Salinger if you don't."

"What?" Eddie breathed, feeling his eyes grow wide. "You can't... Henry said-"

"If your ribs are broken, not getting treatment could be dangerous. You could have a punctured lung or something." Patrick raised an eyebrow as he stared down at Eddie. "If you don't let me see, I'll have to tell him."

Eddie whimpered softly, raising his hands up toward his mouth. "Please don't tell him..." He pleaded in a tiny, shaking voice.

"Then let me see. I won't tell if you let me see." Patrick offered. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands up toward them, covering them up, not verbally telling Patrick he could move his shirt up to look, but no longer telling him no or shrinking back either. He didn't really have a choice.

Eddie held his breath as Patrick lifted his shirt. He whimpered a shaking breath as he felt the older boy's fingertips run across his ribs. He kept his eyes closed. Maybe Patrick meant well, but this was scary. He didn't even know this boy. He met him today.

"Lay back. I wanna see 'em better." Patrick ordered, grabbing Eddie's shoulder to help him onto his back.

Eddie kept his eyes covered as he allowed Patrick to lay him down on the bed. He kept them covered as he felt Patrick's cold fingers running across his ribs again, then down over his stomach.

"I think you're okay." Patrick whispered, inching his fingers down further, toward Eddie's pelvis, across his stomach under his bellybutton, then very slightly down into the front of his pants.

Eddie gasped. His eyes shot open and he grabbed toward Patrick's hand as he struggled to sit up. "W-what are you doing?" He breathed.

"Nothing." Patrick laughed softly, placing his hand on Eddie's upper-chest to shove him back down as his other weaseled under the waist of Eddie's jeans. "Shhhh."

"Patrick, stop..." Eddie whimpered, grabbing at Patrick's arm and trying to pull him back as Patrick continued shoving his hand further down the front of Eddie's pants. "Please stop!"

"You're okay. I won't hurt you." Patrick whispered, leaning down close, putting some of his body weight onto Eddie to help hold him down as he shoved his hand down further, reaching down with his other hand to unbutton and unzip Eddie's pants so he could get his hand even further down the front of the garment.

Eddie choked out a frightened sob as he squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed desperately at Patrick's arm, trying to pull his hand away. "Please don't! Let me go! Don't touch me!" He begged.

"Don't cry... You gotta be quiet, Eddie. Mr. Salinger will be pissed if he comes in and sees us doing this." Patrick whispered as he put his hand over Eddie's mouth and squeezed the other down under Eddie's underwear, groping between his legs.

Eddie let out a muffled noise as he tried to shake his head.

"Shhh... You're okay. This is fun. Don't be a prude, Eddie." Patrick laughed softly as he squeezed and rubbed his hand. "I'm not hurting you. You're okay. This feels good, right?"

Eddie tried to shake his head as he grabbed uselessly at Patrick's arms. The older boy was so much stronger than he was.

"Put your hand on mine." Patrick whispered, pulling his fingers out of Eddie's pants and grabbing at Eddie's hand.

Eddie shook his head and whimpered another stifled breath under Patrick's hand as he curled his fingers into a fist and tried to pull his arm back. He grabbed desperately at Patrick's arm with his other hand, trying to free himself.

"Don't scream. Be quiet or I'm gonna let Henry come in here and beat the shit out of you." Patrick growled, moving his hand up off Eddie's mouth and pinning Eddie's other arm down against the bed.

Eddie choked out a shaking, breathless sob. "Don't do this, please!" He cried, trying to keep his voice down. He didn't know what to do, who he could trust. Patrick said Mr. Salinger would be mad if he saw this. Maybe he really would be. Maybe he'd blame Eddie. One of his foster-mothers blamed him once when her boyfriend did something like this to Eddie...

"Shhh... Just calm down. It won't hurt. You gotta do this for me... Then I'll keep Henry away from you. Alright? That's a fair trade... You make me feel good, I'll make you feel good, and I'll make sure Henry doesn't beat you up. Okay?" Patrick offered.

Eddie shook his head and continued crying. He clearly had no choice.

"Just put your hand on it." Patrick breathed, forcing Eddie's hand down the front of Patrick's pants. His own hand was on top of Eddie's guiding it where he wanted it, down into boxer shorts, over wiry hairs, onto warm flesh.

Eddie gagged slightly as he let his mind think too much about what was happening. He knew what his fingers were touching, and it made him want to puke.

"I'm gonna move my hand away and leave yours there. I want you to just rub it on your own. You do this for me, or I'll hit you. And I'll let Henry hurt you too." Patrick threatened.

Sobbing softly, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. He wished he could just disappear. He knew he had no choice but to do what Patrick said. If he didn't do it, Patrick would probably do something even worse to him, and let Henry hurt him too. At least this didn't hurt.

Eddie heard Patrick breathe out a slow breath as Eddie moved his hand as Patrick had ordered. He shivered and let his tears fall when he felt Patrick push his hand back down the front of Eddie's pants, rubbing between the younger boy's legs in a similar fashion.

"That's nice, Eddie." Patrick breathed. "Keep going... Just like that."

Eddie continued moving his fingers as ordered, feeling his heart pound wildly in his chest as his breaths started getting short and wheezy again. He tried to take his mind away from the situation as he absent-mindedly rubbed his hand, as he tried not to notice Patrick's hand rubbing him in the same way.

He thought about sunshine, and clouds, about the few memories he had of when his dad was still alive, about feeling safe, warm, protected - something he hadn't felt in years. Something he doubted he'd ever feel again.

Eddie kept thinking about these things, a locked bedroom he was in all by himself, one where no one else had the key, a dresser full of clothes with no holes, jackets, coats, warm boots, gloves, an imaginary adult person who would adopt him and love him and care for him and never, ever hurt him, never touch him in a way that was nefarious...

He thought about a family who would celebrate his birthday and hug him in a way that Eddie would feel loved and secure instead of nervous and scared. Brothers and sisters who helped him with his homework and playfully shoved each other instead of pinning each other to beds and groping all over each other. Eddie wanted a brother who would comfort him, hug him, protect him... Someone who Eddie would feel safe with, someone he'd never fear.

Eddie didn't let his mind back to the present until he realized he was barely breathing anymore. His breaths were short, shallow, kind of painful.

Letting out a shaking, wheezing gasp, Eddie moved his hand away from Patrick, up out of his pants. He grasped weakly toward his own throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Hey!" Patrick growled. "I didn't say we were done..."

He didn't even mean to stop doing as Patrick asked... He knew Patrick wanted him to keep going, but he couldn't. He had to get his inhaler. He couldn't breathe. He had to let himself breathe.

"I c-" Eddie choked. "Can't breathe..." He squeezed his eyes shut painfully as tears dripped down. He wasn't even sure if he was crying anymore or if his eyes were just watering because he couldn't manage to inhale any oxygen.

"Come on, Eddie. Don't be dramatic. We were just getting started." Patrick grumbled, grabbing Eddie's hand again and pushing it toward his groin.

Eddie shook his head and sucked in a labored, pained breath. It even sounded completely awful to his own ears.

"Oh..." Patrick whispered, seemingly finally noticing that Eddie's breaths didn't seem right. "Shit... I forgot about the asthma thing."

Eddie opened his eyes as he felt for his fanny pack. It wasn't around his waist anymore. Patrick must have moved it at some point. He whimpered softly as he looked around. Where was it? He needed it!

"W-where's-" Eddie wheezed, unable to finish his sentence as he brought his fingertips up toward his very tight-feeling throat. He squeezed his eyes back shut, ignoring the feeling of Patrick's hands on him, dragging him up into a sitting position, resting one hand on his back.

Eddie choked out a broken sob as he tried to breathe. Fortunately, it seemed Patrick wasn't willing to let him die. He felt the older boy pressing the inhaler up toward his lips. Eddie reached up with fumbling fingers, grabbing the inhaler over Patrick's hands and allowing himself two generous puffs this time.

He opened his eyes once his breathing was a little more evened out, then immediately shrunk down as he saw Patrick staring at him. "You okay, kid?" Patrick frowned.

Eddie shook his head no. "Please don't hurt me... Please just let me go..." He whimpered.

Patrick exhaled a loud sigh. "I'll tell you what... We can leave it here for today... Only because I'm afraid you're gonna have a panic attack and die... But - you gotta promise you'll do me a couple favors now and then, so I can do favors back - that means me keeping Henry away from you."

"F-favors?" Eddie whispered, his voice shaky.

"Yep. Like this... Only maybe you calm the fuck down and don't nearly die over it." Patrick laughed. "I'll be careful. It won't hurt. You don't have to freak out."

Eddie frowned and looked down.

"You gotta do it, Eddie." Patrick went on. "It can be little stuff like this, in exchange for me keeping Henry from hurting you... Or you can be a bitch about it, and I'll do more rough stuff - by force... and Henry will hurt you too."

Eddie bit his lower lip. He wished he could just disappear. That's all he wanted... To just be gone.

"So? Light stuff willingly? Or rough stuff and Henry kicking your ass? Which'll it be?" Patrick smirked.

Swallowing, Eddie stared past Patrick. He didn't have a choice. Fighting back on this would mean a lot more pain and humiliation. "The first thing..." He whispered.

"Okay. Good." Patrick put his hand lightly on Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie flinched slightly, exhaling a small breath as Patrick stood up and headed toward the door.

"I think you and I are gonna get along really good." Patrick smiled, opening the door and leaving.

Eddie waited until he couldn't hear Patrick's footsteps anymore...

Then he got up, walked over to the closet, opened the door and stepped in. He closed it behind him, sinking down into a dark corner, raising his knees up to his chest, putting his forehead down against them, and started to cry.

As he sobbed and sobbed, Eddie felt more and more sure there just wasn't a safe space for him left in this world. Maybe hoping for better was just naive. He was setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak.

He just had to face it... He couldn't trust anyone. The world was full of only people who would either hurt him, or quietly allow him to be hurt by others. There was no such thing as love and care in this world. Not anymore. Not for him.

**xxxxxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 4**

**xxxxxx**

It had been three days since Eddie moved in. Mr. Salinger didn't know him well enough to notice that Eddie wasn't himself. Eddie wasn't even sure who he was anymore, what he would act like if he was being his normal self. In order to be normal, his life would have to be normal, and it just hadn't been for so fucking long. Maybe Eddie would be happy and nice and bubbly if he wasn't scared and hurt all the time... But he was scared and hurt, so he felt bitter, jumpy, and even mean. He wanted to yell at people who looked at him or talked to him. He felt like a jerk, but he didn't feel secure enough not to be. He tried trusting Patrick. He tried making friends with him... and look what it led to...

Mr. Salinger also seemed a lot less interested in pretending like he was a Disney character after that first day. He mostly just ignored all three of the boys until the next new one arrived. Then he got a little more fake again, pretending like they were all going to be a big happy family, just for that one day though, just to give off the illusion of caring for long enough to fool the new kid.

Eddie knew better than to even start to believe it this time. Mr. Salinger was just like everybody else. He didn't care about the kids he worked with. Maybe he wanted to care, but he didn't. He did just enough - the bare minimum, and then looked the other way just like everyone else. Eddie had barely talked to the man since the first day he was here, and he had hardly talked to him then either.

Things had gotten worse and worse since the first day. At the moment, Eddie was quiet, nervous, very anxious... He didn't feel like eating, could barely sleep... Every night since he got here Patrick sneaked into his room and made him do things he didn't want to do. During the day, Henry gave him mean looks, sometimes shoved or tripped him the hallways if Mr. Salinger wasn't around... And Eddie had to walk with both of the older boys to and from school every day. He was stuck either being shoved by Henry, or groped by Patrick as they walked.

The second night he was here, Patrick waited until Eddie had almost fallen asleep before he did anything. Eddie had even started to believe maybe Patrick wouldn't hurt him after all... but he was wrong. Patrick hadn't forgotten their deal. He came in at about ten o' clock. (Mr. Salinger made the boys go to bed at nine thirty.)

Patrick climbed under Eddie's blankets with him, pulled down his own pants, and forced Eddie to rub his hand up and down on the older boy's penis. While Eddie did this, Patrick pulled the younger boy close, running his own hands up and down Eddie's back and bottom, kissing him on his mouth while Eddie mostly remained frozen still and softly cried.

The next night, what happened was even worse. Patrick made Eddie rub him even longer, making him go faster until his penis grew hard. Eddie almost puked when he felt wetness splash onto his legs after. Then Patrick tried to do the same thing to Eddie, pulling his pants down and rather viciously rubbing up and down on his penis. It had actually hurt. He didn't stop until Eddie started sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. At that point, Patrick helped him with his inhaler, then patted him lightly on the chest, promising to do something 'really fun' the next night.

The next night was now. It was almost nine o'clock... That meant he needed to be in bed within a half hour, and Patrick would probably be coming by shortly after, once Mr. Salinger did his bed-checks and Patrick knew he wouldn't be caught.

As the clocked ticked and the minutes quickly sped by, Eddie felt a growing pit of dread in his chest. Each night it seemed Patrick did something worse than the night before, more humiliating, more painful... He shuddered to think what the older boy might be planning to do to him tonight. At some point it would be the case that it couldn't get worse... but it still could for now. There were awful things Patrick could still do that he hadn't yet. So far it had just been touching - sometimes rough touching, but still just touching. There were other, far worse things. Things Eddie had never done before - not even with his worst, most abusive foster-families.

Eddie had never wanted to run away more in his life than he did right now.

He wasn't sure how Patrick was going to manage to hurt him tonight though, since the new boy had arrived this morning. He was sharing Eddie's room with him now. Unless the new kid, Richie, was allowed to know about what was happening, it didn't seem like Patrick was going to be able to sneak into Eddie's room and hurt him after everyone went to bed. Richie would be in the room too.

Since they had school today, Eddie hadn't had to spend much time trying to avoid talking to Richie. Richie tried to joke with him a few times, but Eddie pretty much ignored him, determined not to let himself begin to trust anyone else. It didn't matter that Richie seemed harmless. It didn't matter that Eddie needed an ally in his life so fucking bad it hurt.

Richie was probably a sick, violent bastard just like everyone else around him. Even so, Eddie did quietly keep himself close to the new boy as the night progressed. The unknown was better than the known this time. Maybe Richie wouldn't do anything mean. Henry and Patrick definitely would.

Eddie stared across the room at him. They were in the 'library' now... Which was pretty much just a room with a couple chairs, a sparse shelf of books, and a few board games stacked on a table. Only Eddie and Richie were in the room right now. Richie was reading. Eddie was pretending to... He just wanted to be in a room with another human being who wasn't Patrick or Henry. It would be harder for the older boys to do anything to him with a witness. It wasn't a guarantee of course, but it was better than being alone.

Though Eddie had barely said a word to Richie, the boy seemed much less threatening than the older ones. Eddie didn't trust him by any means. He didn't know him and didn't care to, but he felt slightly more safe just having another person with him - a person who didn't seem so far like he planned on beating Eddie up or sexually abusing him.

Narrowing his eyes at the other boy, Eddie looked him up and down. He had glasses that made his eyes look really big. He was kind of small too - not as small as Eddie, but not overly tall like Patrick or muscular like Henry.

Eddie quickly looked down when Richie glanced up over his book at him. "Why the fuck you keep staring at me?" Richie laughed.

Eddie swallowed and stared down at his book. He didn't even know what book it was. He had just grabbed a random one and flipped it open.

"You like mute or something?" Richie went on. "God damn, kid... Stop being fuckin' weird. I'm just trying to talk to you..."

"I'm not staring." Eddie finally whispered, not really wanting to make yet another enemy right now.

"When your eyeballs look at someone like non-stop for a solid day, that's called staring." Richie raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I mean, sure, I'm flattered... I do get plenty of stares just by being so fuckin' good looking, but come on. At least pay me a compliment while you're at it."

Eddie frowned and looked down. Did Richie think Eddie was staring because he thought Richie was attractive? Eddie glanced up at him quickly again, then looked right back down. He wondered if he'd be able to fight off Richie if he had to. He was smaller than Patrick and Henry, but still bigger than Eddie.

"What is it that you're so mesmerized by, Eddie Spaghetti? My gorgeous eyes?" Richie laughed, looking up and blinking quick, fluttery blinks. "My huge muscles?" He raised a thin arm up and flexed.

Eddie scoffed as he looked back up. Richie hardly had any more muscle than Eddie did. He could probably fight Richie off if he had to... Or at the very least makes things very difficult for him.

"Or my lips?" Richie made a kissing face. "You look pretty cute too, Eds." He laughed.

"Don't call me that." Eddie growled.

"What, cute? Or Eds?" Richie stared with a raised eyebrow.

"Either one. And no, I'm not mesmerized by you. You look fucking weird." Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and stared. He hoped Richie didn't jump up and attack him for those comments... He kind of almost didn't care if he did. Maybe if Richie beat the shit out of him, Mr. Salinger would be forced to pay attention to him. Then Patrick couldn't do anything.

Richie only laughed harder. "I knew you had a personality somewhere under all that sulking."

"No I don't." Eddie pouted.

"You don't have a personality?" Richie laughed.

"Nope." Eddie repeated. "So don't bother trying to get to know me, trying to talk to me, trying to be my friend, or pretending to - like you are right now. I'm not interested."

Richie frowned. "I don't pretend to be people's friends." He actually looked kind of hurt, which didn't seem like it could be genuine. Why would he possibly care what Eddie thought of him? They didn't know a single thing about each other. He couldn't have any expectation from Eddie yet.

Eddie hadn't even been nice to him. In fact, Eddie had been being meaner to Richie than he'd maybe ever been to anyone. He was just so sick of believing anyone when they seemed decent, only to ultimately be hurt and betrayed in the end.

"Good." Eddie stared. "Me neither. I don't have friends, and I don't want friends."

Richie stared silently for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "Well... That's really sad... Hopefully you'll change your mind, because I know I could really use a friend." He offered a slight laugh.

Eddie felt a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as an edge of wonder and longing tugged away at his anger. Richie wanted a friend? Eddie wondered if it was true. It was very likely Richie wasn't much different than Eddie. Maybe is life had been disappointment after disappointment too. Maybe he just wanted to find someone he could trust after being let down over and over again.

Eddie blinked and shook his head very slightly. No. He wasn't falling for it. Eddie needed a friend too, but so far every person he ever met fucking sucked. Richie probably did too under his dumb ass jokes and fake-kindness. Eddie thought he could relate to Patrick too, and that certainly hadn't worked out.

"Anyway... It's getting kind of late, and if we've gotta be in bed at nine thirty, I should probably go take a shower while I still can... I'll see you up in the room later, I guess. Don't lock me out." Richie laughed softly and rolled his eyes as he stood up. "Careful getting down off your high horse."

Eddie frowned as he watched Richie leave. He felt kind of bad. He wanted to keep his guard up, but he couldn't deny that he was just really rude to Richie, and Richie didn't do anything to deserve it. Eddie was just sick of people pretending to be nice to him and then turning around and hurting him. He couldn't know who not to trust until it was too late... so he just couldn't let himself trust anyone.

**xxxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 5**

**xxxxxx**

Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, Eddie made his way up to his and Richie's bedroom after Richie left for the shower. It was going to be nine thirty in about a half hour - and Mr. Salinger did check the rooms at that time. That's why Patrick always waited until around ten o' clock to come in and hurt him. So he wouldn't be caught.

Unhooking his fanny pack from around his waist, Eddie put it on top of the dresser, unzipping the top to double check that his inhaler was in there. Of course it always was, but he also always liked to check. It was kind of his worst fear to need his inhaler and to not be able to find it. He must have double checked that it was there at least twenty times a day.

After spotting the inhaler, running his fingers over it, and zipping the fanny pack back up, Eddie sat down on his bed and looked around the room. It wasn't just his space anymore. The new kid was going to be sharing it with him from now on. Until one of them did something either right or wrong to get moved out of his hell hole.

Richie's suitcase was against the opposite wall, closer to the second bed. It was empty, as Mr. Salinger didn't seem to like anyone leaving their belongings packed up, even though it couldn't really make a difference to him... Richie's clothing was in the other drawers Eddie's clothes weren't occupying in the dresser. Richie also seemed to own pretty much nothing. Just a glasses case next to his bed and an old back pack with a broken zipper hung up on the closet door.

Frowning, Eddie glanced toward the open door out into the hallway. He felt a little hopeful that maybe Patrick would leave him alone tonight. He couldn't come in here and do the things he'd been doing with Richie right there in the other bed... Right?

Unless he waited for Richie to fall asleep, and just made Eddie promise to keep quiet. That was hard to do sometimes. Sometimes Eddie's panic took over and his breaths and sobs got out of control. Maybe now that Richie was here, Eddie wouldn't have to suffer through Patrick's wandering hands anymore.

Or maybe he'd just have to learn to be more quiet. Surely if he was too loud and got Patrick in trouble, Patrick would just be angry... He'd just hurt him more as punishment.

With a frown, Eddie stared at the closet door, at Richie's old, stained, limp backpack hanging on the doorknob. He wondered what Richie kept in it. The new kid didn't seem like the sort who'd really have anything meaningful or important possessions. Probably just old, chewed gum, half-finished homework, and garbage.

Standing up, Eddie walked across the room, opening up Richie's backpack and looking inside. It smelled kind of like wet towels and smoke mixed together. Eddie wrinkled his nose and stuck his hand inside, carefully moving things around to see better. He had a tattered notebook, a very worn-looking folder with a few sheets of paper in it, and a broken pencil inside. And some dirty socks. Gross.

Eddie grimaced and let the top of the backpack fall closed again.

He walked over to the dresser next, pulling out the drawers and looking at Richie's clothes. His t-shirts looked pretty worn out. He had a jacket too. That was cool. Eddie needed one. He ran his fingertips over it. It felt like it would be pretty warm. He wondered if he just took this one if Richie would say anything. Maybe he'd beat Eddie up.

"How you getting along with the new kid?" Patrick's voice asked from the doorway.

Eddie breathed in a small gasp and turned around, closing the drawer behind him and staring up at Patrick.

"He's your age, right?" Patrick asked, closing the door behind him as he stepped inside the room.

Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat as tears started welling up in his eyes. He honestly was starting to think Patrick was actually going to leave him alone tonight. He really, really didn't want to get into this. He just wanted to fucking sleep, to be able to feel safe enough to soundly sleep through an entire night...

"He's in the shower, so I'd say we got about twenty minutes." Patrick went on, locking the door and stepping toward the bed, nodding down toward it and then looking at Eddie. "Get on the bed." He ordered.

Eddie's lower lip trembled as he stared at the bed. He inhaled a few steadying breaths, but did as he was told. He knew if he didn't Patrick would hurt him worse.

"Shhh. Don't cry." Patrick whispered, climbing up onto the bed after Eddie, pushing him back onto the flattened old pillows at the top. "I want you to kiss me, with tongue." He demanded. "You kinda just laid there before. Kiss me back this time."

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and shrunk down slightly as he felt Patrick's weight on top of him and his fingers under his chin, tilting his face up. He kept his eyes shut when he felt Patrick's mouth on his, kissing in a way that suggested he'd kissed lots and lots of people before and knew exactly what he was doing.

Eddie reluctantly parted his lips, trying to kiss back. He didn't really know for sure how to do it right. He whimpered softly when Patrick forced his tongue past Eddie's lips and teeth, sliding it around Eddie's tongue, seemingly trying to wake it up - trying to get Eddie to do the same thing back.

Even though he felt like he was going to throw up in disgust, Eddie tried to mimic Patrick's movements. The warm feeling of Patrick's saliva mixing with his own seriously nauseated him. He hoped he didn't throw up in Patrick's mouth. The older boy would probably legitimately kill him if he did.

"Good." Patrick smiled slightly as he pulled back. "I mean, good for you... Better than nothing. We can work on it."

Eddie felt his eyes widen as Patrick grabbed his arms without warning and flipped him over onto his stomach. He held his breath and felt his body stiffen. Patrick hadn't done this before. Thus far, when Patrick came in to abuse him, they laid facing each other and it consisted of one or both of them rubbing each other between their legs. This was something else.

"You'll like this." Patrick whispered, reaching his hands up and tugging Eddie's boxer shorts down.

"W-what are you doing?" Eddie gasped, fighting the urge to reach down and pull his pants back up. Just because he had agreed to do what Patrick said didn't mean he was actually going to... Eddie put up with a lot already. He had limits. But he didn't want to fight back too soon. If he made a big deal about his pants being down and Patrick didn't already plan on hurting him, he certainly would as soon as Eddie freaked out.

"You'll see. Relax and hold still." Patrick smirked, running his hands up Eddie's thighs, onto his butt.

Eddie breathed in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he drew his arms close to his body and balled his hands into fists. He felt himself shaking. He was really scared. He didn't know whether to try to fight back or just lay here. Either way he'd probably end up hurt... Probably worse if he fought back.

"You ever done this with anybody?" Patrick whispered as he spread Eddie's cheeks with his hands, rubbing his thumb teasingly up and down.

Eddie felt his breaths increasing in speed. He wasn't totally sure what Patrick was doing, but he had a pretty good guess. There weren't very many reasons someone would need to flip someone else over on his stomach and pull his pants down. Eddie wasn't that naive.

He actually hadn't ever been hurt in that specific way. The people in his life who sexually abused him pretty much just stuck to touching Eddie, making Eddie touch them. Nothing invasive... Never the very worst things someone could force someone else to do. Eddie figured it was because he was pretty small for his age. His abusers didn't want to hurt him enough to require medical care. They didn't want to risk being caught. Maybe Patrick didn't care about that.

One time his former-foster dad bent Eddie over a table, pulled his pants down... and Eddie thought this was going to happen, but it didn't. Instead, the man put his penis between Eddie's thighs, maybe because he was scared penetrating him would hurt him too bad and that he'd have to go to a doctor. He probably wanted to do the real thing, but didn't want to hurt Eddie in a way that other people might notice. He didn't want to get caught.

That was the worst night of Eddie's life. He had never been more scared, ever. He was eleven when that happened. It was a thursday night and his foster-dad was pretty drunk. Eddie remembered it much more vividly than he wished he did. The man had kind of mimicked what sex would look like, only forcing himself between Eddie's thighs, up high, close to where he'd have needed to be to actually do it... but never actually penetrating him.

Eddie still remembered the feeling of the man thrusting against him. The front of his foster-dad's thighs smacked the back of Eddie's. His hands squeezed the flesh on Eddie's butt. He grabbed around Eddie's ribs so hard there were finger-shaped bruises there the next day. He had bruises on his upper thighs near his pelvis too, from being pushed against the table so hard.

The whole time he did it, he made horrible grunting sounds, and his grip got tighter and harder as he thrusted faster and faster. Eddie had been so scared that he just held perfectly still while the man hurt him. He didn't even scream or cry. He cried a lot after the guy left... but during, he just froze in fear, scared fighting or crying out would make it all worse, make it much more painful.

That all had been horrible enough... It was painful, disgusting... but it could have been worse. Eddie's foster-father had held back. He made sure not to hurt Eddie in as big of a way as he probably wanted to. It didn't seem like Patrick was going to hold back... The older boy was spreading Eddie's cheeks, running his fingers threateningly up and down... He wasn't going to settle for forcing himself between Eddie's thighs... He was really going to do it...

"Patrick..." Eddie whispered, his voice shaking. He was scared to tell Patrick no... But he was also scared to allow this without speaking up. Letting Patrick touch him was humiliating and scary. Touching him back was maybe even worse... But this was actually going to hurt - a lot. He couldn't just let this happen unchallenged.

"You'll be okay. I'll be gentle. I'll just do my thumb first." Patrick told him, his voice low, calm. Patrick moved one hand away and Eddie heard him spit, then felt slimy wetness on him between his cheeks when the older boy moved his hand back down.

Eddie shook his head. That was so disgusting, and it was going to hurt... and be so fucking embarrassing. It already was. "Please don't..." He breathed in a tiny voice. He could feel his breaths getting more frantic. He was going to need his inhaler soon if Patrick didn't stop. "Patrick, please..." Eddie whispered, his voice shaking with tears. "I don't want to do this... Please don't... Please let me... I- I'll touch you instead... W-we can do what we did last night..."

Patrick laughed softly. "It's a tempting offer, but no. I won't hurt you, Pretty Boy. Okay? Don't cry. Just relax and it won't hurt. It'll feel good. Weird, but good." He promised, rubbing his thumb back and forth a few more times, then pressing it very slightly in.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, flinched, and let out a sharp breath. "Patrick, please stop... I'm scared! You're hurting me! Stop... Please!"

"Hold still." Patrick breathed, reaching up and grabbing one of Eddie's arms to hold him in place as he pressed his thumb in further. "I'm not hurting you. Relax and it'll go in easy. Stop crying." He demanded.

"Ow!" Eddie sobbed, grabbing a fist of his blanket in his hand and squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Patrick was wrong. It did hurt. It felt awkward and uncomfortable, very forced. His finger wasn't sliding in easily.

"Shhhh. This doesn't hurt. Stop being a brat." Patrick sounded annoyed as he shoved his finger in even deeper.

"Please stop! Please!" Eddie cried, squeezing his hand even tighter within his blanket, trying to shrink down away from Patrick's rough hands. His breaths were becoming more and more difficult. He didn't feel like he was getting enough oxygen. "I c-can't br-breathe! Stop!" He gasped. "Y-you're hurting me!"

"Jesus Christ, kid. I barely did anything." Patrick scoffed, pulling his thumb out, then forcing it right back in as Eddie winced and choked out shaky, shallow breaths. "Just fucking relax. If you can't handle this, my dick's really gonna leave you reeling." He laughed. "This is just practice for the real thing. The sooner you fucking calm down and let yourself enjoy this, the sooner it'll get easier and feel better for you. Relax."

Eddie couldn't help but to break down in breathless, gasping sobs, groaning in discomfort each time Patrick pushed his finger into him. Each of his breaths felt much more difficult than they should have been. In addition to the pain and awkward discomfort down between his legs, his lungs felt both burning and closed off. His throat felt tight.

"Shhh... God damn it..." Patrick breathed, letting go of Eddie's arm and pressing his hand hard over Eddie's mouth. "Stop being so loud. Mr. Salinger isn't asleep yet."

Eddie couldn't help but to continue sobbing. Patrick was still hurting him. It seemed like he was going faster and deeper with his thumb. His cries were muffled by the older boy's hand. His shallow, strained breaths were more difficult too. He felt like he might pass out.

"Shhh. Relax, Pretty Boy." Patrick whispered, sliding his thumb in and out as Eddie moaned in discomfort. "Keep breathing. You're okay..."

Eddie's breaths were practically non existent. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were gripping fists of blanket so tightly that his fingers hurt. Stifled, breathless groans escaped past Patrick's hand over Eddie's mouth each time the older boy forced his thumb back inside.

"You're doing great, Baby. Keep breathing." Patrick spoke, pushing his thumb as deep as it would go, pulling it out, then forcing it right back, over and over. "It's getting easier and easier. Just keep relaxing. Then my dick won't hurt as bad."

Eddie choked out a terrified, breathless sob. Maybe Patrick felt like this was getting easier, but it wasn't. It still hurt, and it was humiliating.

"I'm gonna do two fingers now. Then when you get used to that, we can do the real thing." Patrick breathed, sounding like he was getting excited.

Eddie groaned in pain and flinched away as much as he could when Patrick spit on his hand again and forced two fingers up into him. He could feel his breaths becoming even more strained, even more shallow. He was going to pass out soon if Patrick didn't stop. Maybe even if he did. He couldn't breathe.

"Eds?" Richie's voice suddenly called out as a knock sounded at the bedroom door and the door knob rattled.

Eddie let out a shaking breath through his nose as his eyes shot open. He felt cold fear in his chest. What would happen if Richie found out about this? Would Patrick be mad? Would he blame Eddie? Hurt him even more for crying out? Would Richie tell someone? That would make Patrick even more mad.

Or maybe Richie would see that Eddie was everybody's go-to person to abuse, and Richie would know that he could hurt Eddie too - that the smaller boy wasn't going to fucking do anything about it, so he might as well have his fun just like everyone else...

Eddie felt his breaths becoming even more difficult, even more painful as Patrick ignored Richie's knock and continued sliding his fingers painfully in and out. Eddie was fully panicking now. Patrick was hurting him, Richie was going to know. That would make things worse one way or another.

"Come on, Eddie... You in there? You seriously fucking locked me out? I was joking. I didn't even know the doors had locks..." Richie went on, rattling the door knob again. "Will you let me in? Please?"

Patrick continued his assault, pressing his hand harder over Eddie's mouth as he pushed his fingers deep into Eddie's protesting body, but calling out to Richie rather than remaining silent and hoping the other boy would take a hint and leave. "Can you come back in like five minutes?" Patrick shouted.

"Patrick?" Richie sounded confused. He hesitated for a moment before calling out again. "Eddie, you in there? You okay?"

"He's fine, faggot. God, are you like his fucking mom?" Patrick growled, forcing his fingers in deeper so that Eddie groaned in discomfort under his hand pressing even harder against his mouth.

"I'm fucking his mom if that's what you mean. Let me in." Richie pounded on the door again, waiting a moment before adding, "Its my fucking room, asshole. Let me in."

Patrick exhaled an annoyed breath, but finally slid his fingers out and let go of Eddie, pressing him down rather roughly as he stood. "Your little fucking boyfriend's gonna get me in trouble... We'll finish this later. You got lucky this time." He grumbled, making his way toward the door and opening it before Eddie even got a chance to pull his pants back up. "Don't you fucking start shit around here, fag." He warned Richie, shoving him against his shoulder as he walked past him out into the hallway. "I can hurt you. So can Henry."

"Okay, Jesus." Eddie heard Richie mumble as he made his way into the room. "Fuckin' lunatic..." He muttered under his breath.

Eddie pulled himself up with shaking limbs, grabbing in panic at his underwear. Why hadn't Patrick just given him like thirty seconds before opening the door. Did he want Richie to know about this? Why the fuck would be want Richie to know!?

"Holy shit... You okay?" Richie breathed when he finally noticed Eddie's current state.

Eddie looked down and sniffed a choking sob, his breaths still painfully shaky and short. He couldn't even bring himself to answer. His hands were shaking so horribly that even just pulling up his pants was proving to be difficult. His breaths were so short. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Do you want me to get Mr. Salinger? Did he hurt you?" Richie sounded so out of breath, so serious as he rushed up to Eddie's side, putting his hand lightly on the smaller boy's arm.

"No." Eddie wheezed, shrinking down away from Richie. "Please leave me alone..." He choked out a shaking sob, turning to face away from the other boy. He couldn't tell if his strained breaths were from crying so hard or from an asthma attack. He just knew he could barely breathe, and he felt like he was increasingly close to passing out. His pants still weren't all the way up. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even pull them completely up, which made him panic even more.

"Here... Let me help you." Richie reached out again.

Eddie whimpered and pushed Richie's hand away. "Don't touch me! I don't need your fucking help!" He sobbed, choking quick, pained breaths. He didn't trust Richie. He couldn't trust Richie. He just wanted to vanish. He didn't want to be here, and he had nowhere else to go. He wished he could just die. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Okay..." Richie breathed, raising his hands up in defense. "I'm not touching you. I won't touch you... I'm not gonna hurt you, Eddie... I promise. Alright?"

Eddie shook his head. He could barely breathe. He was completely panicked. Richie was still standing too close. "G-get away from me!" Eddie sobbed, his breaths shaky and pained as he finally managed to get his pants back up around his hips.

Richie moved away from him as Eddie shrunk down, grabbing at the waist of his boxer shorts, holding them up, even though they were already up. He felt the need to keep a hold on them, to make sure they stayed where they were supposed to be.

Eddie looked up at the sound of the lock on the bedroom door clicking. "W-what are you doing?" He breathed, shrinking back on the bed as he stared at Richie, who stood right in front of the door.

"Locking everybody else out." Richie answered, sitting down in front of the door and staring at Eddie.

"W-why?" Eddie breathed, still feeling like his breaths weren't quite as strong as he would have liked them to be. What if Richie expected something from him? What if he thought Eddie owed him something since Richie kind of saved him from Patrick just now? They were locked in together. Richie wasn't as big as Patrick, but he was still bigger than Eddie, and Eddie was in the middle of a half-panic-half-asthma attack... If Richie wanted to do something, he probably could. Eddie was in no condition to defend himself.

"Because everybody out there fucking sucks." Richie frowned. "You and me are the only people in this house who aren't assholes."

Eddie stared at Richie as he reached to the side, feeling on the dresser next to the bed until he found his fanny-pack. Without taking his eyes off the other boy, Eddie unzipped it and felt around inside, grabbing out his inhaler and holding it shakily up to his lips. He inhaled a quick puff, then swallowed nervously, breathing in and out a slow, shaking breath.

"You alright?" Richie frowned.

"I think so..." Eddie whispered.

"Okay... Good..." Richie breathed. "I won't let him back in... You're gonna be okay."

Eddie felt himself calming down more the longer he and Richie sat there staring at each other. He asked Richie to back off, and Richie did. If Richie wanted to, he could have held Eddie down and made him accept Richie's help. But he didn't. He was just sitting on the floor, making sure no one came in...

"Do you want to talk about it?" Richie frowned.

Eddie's lower lip trembled and tears shined in his eyes. He shook his head no. "I'm fine. Can we just go to sleep?"

"Yeah. I guess... But..." Richie shrugged, biting his lip and frowning. "I mean... are you okay though? Did he hurt you?" He asked.

Eddie shook his head. "Nothing happened." He lied, wiping his fingers over his cheeks, sniffing back tears, and climbing under the covers on his bed.

"I know that's not true." Richie stared. "You're crying... He had you on the bed with your pants down, and you're crying..."

"What the fuck difference does it make to you?" Eddie's voice shook.

Richie frowned, looking down at the floor. "Because I think this is why you're being so mean... Because I think you need a friend even more than I do. Because I know how it feels to have people treat me like shit, and when I see it happening to other people it fucking hurts. You don't deserve what he was doing to you, and you don't have to put up with it."

"Yes, I do." Eddie whispered, tears threatening to spill over.

"You think you deserved that?" Richie sounded shocked and his eyes were wide.

"No... Maybe... I think I have to put up with it." Eddie answered. When he responded to Richie just now, he meant that he had to put up with it, but maybe he deserved it for some reason. He couldn't guess why, but surely the universe wouldn't let him suffer so much if he didn't do something to bring it upon himself. "Maybe I do deserve it. There's got to be a reason this shit keeps happening." Eddie added.

Richie shook his head. "The reason is other people being bastards. Not you. You don't deserve that. Have you told Mr. Salinger?"

Eddie's eyes widened as he shook his head. "Please don't tell him."

"He might help, Eds." Richie frowned.

Eddie shook his head again. "And he might not."

Richie looked down, but didn't argue that point any further. He seemed to understand being disappointed by adults who were supposed to protect and help him.

He couldn't tell the man. Mr. Salinger might not believe Eddie. Then Patrick would just be mad. Or Mr. Salinger might blame Eddie for all of it. Then everyone would be mad. Eddie's only choice here was to put up with it and hope it didn't hurt too bad. Hope either he or Patrick would get moved somewhere else... Of course, the next place would probably be just as bad.

Eddie wondered if he should just run away again. He wondered if Mr. Salinger or Patrick or Henry, or maybe even Richie had any cash lying around somewhere he could take. He couldn't keep putting up with this.

"Eddie..." Richie spoke up as he paced across the room and sat down on his own bed.

Eddie looked up and stared at him. His hair was still dripping wet from the shower. He was wearing an old t-shirt with a tear at the collar and boxer shorts. One of his socks had a hole in the toe.

"I know you don't trust me. I'm only some kid you just met today... We don't know each other and you've got no reason to think I'm gonna be any more help to you than anyone else ever has been... But I'll try to keep him away from you." Richie shrugged.

Eddie shook his head. That would just make Patrick mad. Then he'd probably hurt Richie too, and Eddie more. "I don't want you to. I don't want you to do anything. Just pretend you didn't see anything, Richie. Please..." Eddie begged. Other people trying to help always made things even worse. Always.

Richie shook his head. "No. I'm not gonna be a part of letting him hurt you. I won't say anything to Mr. Salinger, but Patrick knew I'd see something when he opened the door with you still half undressed, crying on the bed. If he didn't want me to see, he wouldn't have done that. It's his problem if I make it harder for him to do it again. If he gets mad, it'll be at me."

Eddie shook his head. He was going to have to run away from here soon. This whole mess was spiraling completely out of his control. Maybe Richie meant well, but Eddie just knew things were going to get a whole lot worse from here.

"Good night, Eds." Richie whispered softly, climbing into his own bed and turning to face away from Eddie. "Tomorrow's gonna be better."

Eddie swallowed nervously, staring at the back of Richie's head. Tomorrow probably wasn't going to be better. No tomorrow in Eddie's future looked good from here. He hugged his blankets close, hoping Richie didn't make this mess infinitely worse. He had a feeling he was never going to feel safe again.

**xxxxxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 6**

**xxxxxx**

Inhaling a shaking breath and squeezing his hands in fists around the worn material of them hem of his t-shirt, Eddie walked slowly toward the football field between the high school and the middle school. His heart pounded and his breaths were short. He could feel very real panic building in his chest, begging him to turn around and go back inside the school. He knew nothing good awaited him out here. He knew he was walking into something completely and utterly awful.

He was practically dragging his feet, very much dreading actually arriving under the bleachers where Patrick had told him to meet him. This morning before the four boys left for school, Patrick had briefly cornered Eddie and told him to sneak out of school during first hour and meet him there. Eddie was scared to say no. Of course, he was scared to agree too... but he figured fighting this would just mean he'd be hurt anyway, only worse.

"Hey, Pretty Boy! Over here!" Patrick called out as Eddie got close to the bleachers.

Eddie froze, holding his breath as he stared at Patrick smiling and waving like he and Eddie were good friends. Henry was there too. What were they going to do? Patrick said he'd keep Eddie safe from Henry if Eddie agreed to do all the terrible things Patrick asked... So why was Henry there? Was Henry going to do something awful to him too?

"Come on, kid. We're not gonna hurt you." Patrick laughed, seemingly able to read Eddie's panic in his expression. "Henry's just here as backup... In case you decide to be difficult. He won't hurt you unless you make him."

Eddie felt his lower lip tremble as tears stung at his eyes. Patrick must have had something really horrible planned if he thought having Henry there as a threat was necessary. He'd never done that before. He always just told Eddie what to do, and Eddie fucking did it. Maybe the younger boy would hesitate, or cry... but Eddie never actually fought back. Patrick shouldn't have had a reason to feel he needed Henry as motivation for Eddie to cooperate.

"Come here." Patrick waved him over. "Don't make me ask again."

Looking down at his feet, Eddie reluctantly made his way over, stopping just out of reach and holding his breath. He had a terrible, terrible feeling about all of this - even more terrible than usual. He didn't believe Henry was just there to stand by looking scary. He was going to hurt Eddie too. They both were. They were going to take turns... Maybe one would hold him down while the other hurt him. Maybe they were going to do the thing Eddie thought Patrick was going to do last night... Both of them.

"Our new house mate seems to really like you." Patrick noted.

Eddie continued staring down at the ground. Was Patrick jealous of Richie? It wasn't like they were even friends... Eddie was forcing himself to be near Richie because Richie hadn't attacked him yet, and it seemed safer to be near another person than by himself. And they shared a bed room. How the hell would Eddie stay away from Richie even if he wanted to?

"You like him better than me?" Patrick pouted.

Eddie swallowed nervously as he looked up with a frown. "W-we share a room... I have to be around him. I don't even like him. He just has to share the room with me... A-and we go to the same school." He added, trying to excuse why he and Richie had walked to school together this morning, keeping their distance from Henry and Patrick who were headed in the same direction. Eddie had barely even talked to Richie on the way.

"He seems to like you. Got kind of possessive when he came in last night." Patrick noted. "I don't think he liked what he saw us doing. Bet he wants to do it. Bet he's mad I got to you first."

Eddie stuck out his lower lip in a pout. He didn't think Richie was interested in that. At least, he hoped he wasn't.

"Feels like you forgot you belong to me. Not him." Patrick glared.

Eddie shook his head. "I don't... I don't belong to anyone..." He squeaked.

Patrick let out a short laugh. "Get on your knees." He ordered, reaching down and unzipping the front of his own pants.

Eddie's eyes widened as he took a step back.

"Get on your knees. Now." Patrick demanded again.

"No." Eddie's voice shook as he stepped further back.

Henry let out a small growling noise to his side as he lunged toward Eddie, grabbing the younger boy's arms as Eddie let out a terrified scream.

"Shut up!" Henry growled, pulling his hand back in a fist. "Get on your fucking knees!" He ordered, punching Eddie hard against his ribs so that he fell forward. Henry proceeded to grab each of Eddie's arms and force him the rest of the way down.

Eddie let out a shaking, pained sob as he tried to shrink down. Henry was holding his arms pretty hard.

"You gotta start doing what we say or you're going to end up really fucking hurt." Henry threatened, letting go of Eddie's arms and shoving him roughly so that he fell forward, catching himself with his hands.

"Get back up. On your knees. And open your mouth." Patrick instructed.

Eddie felt himself shaking as he refused to look up. He didn't know if Patrick had unzipped and unbuttoned his pants fully, if he had taken his penis out. Eddie didn't want to see if he did.

"Get on your fucking knees!" Patrick screamed, reaching out and grabbing Eddie by his arm.

"No!" Eddie screamed, finally jumping up as quick as he could, shoving Patrick as hard as possible, and taking off running. He couldn't just allow all of this. He couldn't live like this. Doing what Patrick said wasn't helping. He was going to be hurt either way.

"Get back here, faggot!" Henry growled, running after him and easily tacking him to the ground before he even made it five yards.

Eddie sobbed as Henry's heavy weight crushed him against the hard gravel under the bleachers. "No! Stop! Please! Let me go!" He begged.

Henry let out a breathy, growling noise as he dragged himself partway up, just enough to pull his arm back and start punching Eddie violently against his ribs again. "You don't fucking tell us no." Henry growled, hitting Eddie hard, over and over again until the boy was reduced to breathless, pained sobs.

"Just hold him there." Patrick suggested, stepping closer and frowning down at them.

Eddie sobbed painful, short breaths as Henry dragged him up to his knees, holding him there by his arms. At this point, Henry was more holding him up than down. Eddie's ribs hurt so much and he felt so out of breath and disoriented that he was pretty sure he'd fall back to the ground if Henry weren't holding him up.

"Open your mouth." Patrick demanded.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. Patrick probably had his penis out. Eddie didn't want to see it. He just wanted to disappear. He could barely breathe. His lungs felt so deflated. None of his tiny, shaking breaths felt like they were going in all the way.

"Open up, Girly Boy. I really don't want to have Henry hurt you again. Just do this. It's easy. It won't even hurt." Patrick sounded disappointed.

"I c-" Eddie whimpered. "I need m-my inhaler... Can't br-breathe... Please..."

He heard Henry laugh next to him and felt someone's hands down near his waist, unzipping his fanny pack and grabbing his inhaler out.

Eddie looked up, hoping whoever had his inhaler was going to let him use it.

Henry was holding it, but holding it up out of Eddie's reach. "Suck our dicks. Then you can have it." He smirked.

Eddie choked out a shaking sob and started to let himself collapse toward the ground, but Henry grabbed his arms again and kept him up.

"If you don't suck our dicks, right now, I'm gonna let Henry slit your fucking throat." Patrick threatened. "Open up. Now. I'm not asking again. You do this or you die."

Eddie couldn't help but to sob breathless, choked cries as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth. He had never been more scared in his whole life. He didn't know if he could do this. He might accidentally bite, or throw up. This wasn't something that just involved him quietly lying back and allowing the older boys to hurt him. If he flinched and accidentally bit down, Patrick might kill him.

"Good boy. Don't bite." Patrick breathed.

Eddie could feel himself gagging and almost threw up immediately when Patrick's flesh first touched Eddie's lips and tongue. He held his short breaths, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as his body shook in complete and utter fear.

Tears streamed silently down Eddie's cheeks as he felt Patrick's hand grab a fist-full of Eddie's hair, guiding his head where he wanted it.

As soon as Patrick forced himself deeper, over the back of Eddie's tongue, the younger boy couldn't help but to gag... As much as he tried not to, he felt vomit rising in his throat, and before he knew it, Patrick had pulled back, and the sound of Henry's laughter filled his ears.

Eddie was still shivering horribly as he fell against the ground, catching himself weakly on his hands and knees as he continued vomiting. He hadn't eaten much this morning. He hardly ever ate anything anymore... But he had eaten enough to puke, and he was getting rid of all of it now. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his entire body shook. He still could barely breathe, and retching and vomiting was certainly not helping.

"You gross little fuck." Patrick growled, grabbing Eddie up off the ground and snatching the front of the boy's shirt, cleaning Eddie's vomit off of himself with it, then turning Eddie around and pushing him harshly up against one of the metal pillars holding up the bleachers. "I should just fuck you up the ass. Can't throw up on me then." Patrick hissed, pressing his groin threatening up against Eddie's back.

"P-please!" Eddie sobbed breathless, choking sobs. "Please don't hurt me! Stop! I didn't mean to! Please!"

Patrick's breaths were kind of quick. Eddie couldn't tell if he was really excited or really mad. Maybe a combination of both. "You little fucking rat." Patrick growled, grabbing the top of Eddie's pants and yanking them roughly down.

"No!" Eddie sobbed.

"Can't believe you fucking threw up on me." Patrick yelled, squeezing Eddie's arm in a tight fist and yanking the younger boy's pants down further.

"I d-didn't mean to!" Eddie cried breathless, shaking sobs. "Please! I didn't mean to! I d-didn't mean to, Patrick!"

"Won't even loosen you up with my fingers first this time. We'll just do it." Patrick growled, grabbing both of Eddie's arms and twisting them painfully behind his back as he kicked Eddie's legs apart. "We'll do it dry too. This is gonna fuckin' hurt."

"Please!" Eddie sobbed. "Please don't! Please!"

Henry was still laughing, enough that apparently it was making Patrick mad.

"Shut up." Patrick yelled back to his friend. Eddie felt something pressed up between his cheeks, threatening to push into him. It had to be Patrick's penis.

"Please don't hurt me, Patrick! Please! I didn't mean to throw up. Please!" Eddie sobbed breathlessly. He was so close to fainting.

"You really just gonna like dry-fuck him up the ass?" Henry laughed. "Guess it's not too dry with his his puke all over your dick though. Fuckin' gross." Henry started laughing harder. "Guess that's what you get for being a fuckin' queer, Pat. Fuckin' hilarious."

"Shut up!" Patrick screamed again, squeezing Eddie's arms in a tighter grip. "I'm not fuckin' queer. You wanted a blow job too."

"Not really. I was just fuckin' with him. I don't want some fuckin' little faggot boy sucking my cock. Probably'd give me AIDS." Henry laughed. "Do you have AIDS yet, Patrick. It'd be a miracle if you didn't."

"Shut up, Bowers!" Patrick growled, roughly pulling Eddie back and shoving him hard toward the ground.

Eddie landed with a pained sob, allowing himself to collapse face-down against the rough gravel. He still couldn't breathe. He wondered if he might die just from that alone. Henry still had his inhaler.

"Shut up!" Patrick screamed again, kicking Eddie hard against his ribs. Eddie wasn't sure if Patrick was talking to him or Henry now. Henry was still loudly laughing. Eddie was still loudly sobbing.

"Please stop!" Eddie begged, trying to shield his ribs with one hand while pulling up his pants with the other. "I d-didn't mean to th-throw up!" He sobbed. "I tried not to! Please!"

"You better start fucking doing what I say, the first time. No more of this shit. I don't ask twice from now on. You do what I say, or Henry slits your fucking throat." Patrick growled. "And if you ever fucking throw up on me again... I'm gonna cut your fucking tongue out and shove it up your ass."

Henry kicked Eddie's foot and spit on him, then tossed Eddie's inhaler down in the dust near him. "Sort your shit out, kid." Henry smirked. "Pathetic little shit can't even fucking breathe on his own." He commented to Patrick with a laugh as the two of them walked away.

Eddie could hear the older boys talking to each other as they got further away. They sounded like they were arguing. Eddie was so glad for that. He was pretty sure Henry's words were what saved him from being seriously hurt just now.

With a shaking hand, Eddie reached out toward his inhaler, bringing it up to his lips and allowing himself two puffs of medicine, then closing his eyes and letting himself lay curled in a ball on the ground. His ribs hurt where Henry had punched him. His lungs felt kind of numb. His brain felt foggy and exhausted. For the moment, all he could think to do was lay still and silent besides for shaking breaths and soft whimpers.

He didn't know what to do. So many times in his life, he just felt entirely trapped, like there was no way to turn that wouldn't lead to further problems. If he told anyone about this, they might not believe him, or they'd try to help and would make things worse. So many times in his life he had begged for help. Very rarely had it worked out.

If he said something to someone about all this, and they didn't rather immediately get him far away from Patrick and Henry, the older boys might actually kill him. Eddie wanted to tell someone, to beg someone to get him the hell out of here, but if Henry and Patrick caught on that Eddie told and they still had the chance to hurt him afterward, they would... and probably really, really badly.

Eddie sniffed softly as shaking, tearful breaths choked him up. He was so fucking scared. Scared to say anything, scared not to. Scared to go along with what they said... much, much more scared not to. He was trapped. That was the only way he could see this situation right now. He was completely, utterly trapped. Doomed to be degraded and hurt, with nowhere to turn.

**xxxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 7**

**xxxxxx**

Richie's first day at the new school had gone more or less okay. He hadn't made any friends, but making actual friends was kind of hard for him, so it wasn't unexpected. Richie's main way to make friends was by making everything into a joke... and people either loved it or hated it - mostly hated it...

So Richie spent a lot of the day trying to find people who appreciated his sense of humor. He hadn't found any yet. People didn't like funny a lot of the times... and they didn't like new kids, or kids wearing shirts with holes in them, or kids with big glasses that made their eyes look huge and weird. As of now, his only friend was Eddie, and Eddie was trying really hard to not be friends.

It hurt Richie's heart how broken Eddie seemed to be, especially considering the smaller boy seemed like he could be such a sweetheart. He was tiny, cute, gentle, very overly clean. He was just obviously scared. People had been cruel and violent with him, and he was reasonably scared. Richie kind of felt a duty to protect the smaller boy. If no one else would, Richie would. It would be wrong not to.

Richie smiled slightly when he spotted Eddie down the hallway at his locker. Even though the smaller boy had been kind of standoffish so far, Richie knew he was a good person under his defensive fear and paranoia. The poor kid had obviously been through hell recently, and seemingly for a long time before now too.

Eddie stood out among the crowd of kids mostly because he was so small. Richie could tell it was him down the hallway just by seeing the dark hair on the back of his head. He stood up on tip toes and was leaning partway into his locker, grabbing something off the top shelf.

"Hey Eds." Richie spoke up as he walked up behind the shorter boy and put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. He immediately retracted his hand, however, when Eddie let out a frightened scream, flinching and spinning around.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Eddie shrieked, reaching out and shoving Richie back pretty hard. Fear melted away into a mixture of shock and annoyance when he saw it was Richie.

"I'm sorry!" Richie breathed, raising his hands in defense. He hadn't considered that maybe walking up behind Eddie and touching his arm without warning could have scared him. He felt stupid for not thinking of it. Of course Eddie was going to be jumpy and might require someone to ask before physically grabbing him.

Richie had seen part of what Patrick was doing to the smaller boy last night... And it was very possible that wasn't the first time Patrick did something like that. It wasn't odd that Eddie was on-edge after having to deal with that kind of thing - in his own bed, a place he should have felt very safe.

Eddie breathed in and out quick breaths as he pressed his back against his open locker, almost falling into it until he reached up and grabbed the locker's frame with his hands. He looked nervously around at numerous people who were staring in their direction, then focused back on Richie. "Don't fucking sneak up on people like that." He demanded in an angry voice that shook slightly to betray that his anger was also fear.

"I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't mean to scare you-" Richie started.

"You didn't fucking scare me." Eddie lied, turning toward his locker again and grabbing a notebook and a textbook out of the top. "Just don't sneak up on me." He added in a small voice.

"Okay." Richie agreed, not wanting to argue about it. Eddie was definitely scared just then... He flinched... He fucking screamed and shoved Richie back like he thought the taller boy was an actual monster. But it wasn't important for Richie to be right. Eddie could claim he wasn't scared if he wanted to.

"Are you headed back to the house?" Eddie wondered, looking a little nervous, still sounding out of breath.

"Yeah... You okay?" Richie wondered with furrowed brows. Eddie looked a lot more nervous than Richie touching his arm could have possibly caused.

"Yeah. I just wondered if you were going back... S-so we can walk together... if you want to." Eddie bit his lower lip.

"Of course we can." Richie frowned when he noticed Eddie was wearing his P.E. uniform shirt instead of the t-shirt he'd been wearing this morning. "What happened to your other shirt?" Richie frowned.

"Nothing." Eddie growled, slamming his locker, spinning the lock, and then turning back to Richie. "I'm not saying we're like friends or anything... but... do you think I could like hang out with you? Like at home? Like just... we can be in the same room?" Eddie breathed in a shaking breath as he stared expectantly up at Richie.

"Yeah." Richie nodded. "You can hang out with me any time. Constantly if you want."

Eddie laughed a soft, breathless laugh. "I don't want to be clingy or anything... And I know we're not like actual friends."

"Why not?" Richie pouted. "Why can't we be friends?"

"We don't even know each other." Eddie whispered, looking nervous on top of the nervousness already radiating off of him. "I mean... I don't hate you or anything. We just met each other, but I don't want to be by myself. It's just... that... Patrick... um... I mean- I don't know... I just don't want to be... Like where I might be alone, but I don't want to be not-alone with anyone in the house but you..." He trailed off.

"Yeah. Hang out with me. That's fine." Richie promised. It was clear what Eddie was suggesting - that he was scared Patrick would do something to him if Eddie ended up anywhere by himself. "You can seriously stick right by my side all fucking day, Eds. I don't mind. I always wanted a little brother, and-"

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. "We're the same fucking age, Richie."

"I know." Richie shrugged. "You're just so little and cute, and I like spending time with you."

Eddie shook his head. "No you don't... I know why I want to be around you... I don't know why you'd want to be around me."

"Don't do that, Eds." Richie frowned as the two of them headed down the hallway and toward the building's front door. "You haven't let yourself make friends in so long that you think you don't deserve them, but you do. You deserve tons of friends, and I bet you'd have tons if you trusted more people. Most people aren't like Patrick."

Eddie shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself with his books pressed against his chest as they walked. He shivered slightly. "I'm not trusting fucking anyone ever again." He breathed.

Richie forced a tight smile. "I understand why you'd feel that way." He noted.

Eddie glanced over at him with a frown. Maybe he didn't expect that answer.

"I'm serious. I get it. People have hurt you and let you down. I understand." Richie explained. "Trusting people is hard." Richie didn't make it obvious, but he had a lot of difficulty trusting people too. He didn't open up that easily. A lot of his humor was defensive, deflecting.

"Yeah..." Eddie whispered. "It is."

"Here, Eds." Richie shrugged out of his jacket and put it over Eddie's shoulders.

Eddie inhaled a sharp breath and stopped in his tracks, tensing as though the jacket was covered in spiders. "What are you doing?" Eddie stared with wide eyes. He looked completely fucking confused, almost scared.

Richie laughed a soft laugh. "You're shivering... I've got on a sweater... You don't. You're cold."

Eddie seemed to be speechless as he stared back at Richie. Maybe no one had ever cared that he was cold before. Maybe no one else in his life had ever sacrificed any ounce of their own comfort for Eddie's sake.

"Don't worry about it, Eds." Richie smiled. "You got homework?" He asked, changing the subject to show Eddie that it wasn't a big deal that Richie had wanted him not to freeze. Eddie shouldn't have to feel so shocked over someone lending him a jacket.

"I have math. And English." Eddie answered in a small whisper as he shrugged one arm into Richie's jacket sleeves at a time, then resumed hugging his books tightly against his chest.

"Are you reading The Taming of the Shrew in English?" Richie wondered, looking over at a big English Literature book in Eddie's arms.

"Yeah." Eddie answered.

"I can't understand it." Richie shrugged. "Kinda stupid to make us read that stuff. No one talks like that anymore. It's barely even real words."

Eddie smiled slightly. "It's old English. If you pay attention to the discussions in class, it makes more sense, and it's kind of a cool story. Did you know it's a comedy?"

"Uh..." Richie laughed. "I can't understand like fucking any of it, so no... Is it a comedy?"

"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "My teacher explained it. She said if you take it too literally, it sounds kind of awful and abusive, but it's supposed to be sarcastic."

Richie nodded slowly. "I've heard the same said about me." He smirked.

"No one would think you're awful, Richie. Don't say that." Eddie frowned, seemingly, ironically taking Richie way too literally right after that comment.

"I'm joking, Eds." Richie laughed. "And thank you. People do actually think I'm awful... Glad to know you don't."

"Well... maybe not awful. I mean, you're far from perfect..." Eddie back pedaled, clearly hesitant to show Richie too much love.

Richie smirked. Eddie was trying so hard to not make friends, but Richie could tell he and the smaller boy had just the right sorts of personalities that they were going to click together whether Eddie tried to pretend to be a jerk or not. This was the start of friendship. Eddie was scared of it, but it was there. There was no denying that.

"Anyway..." Richie went on. "I just don't don't get it. They use words I've never heard of and it just sounds like nonsense. I don't know why people still read those kinds of plays. Just update them, right? Make it in terms people still use so each little sentence doesn't have to be dissected and translated."

"It's like classic literature..." Eddie frowned. "They can't just change it. It wouldn't have the same tone. I think it's kind of sweet that people still regularly read stuff that's so old. It'd be kind of sad to just let it get lost to time. Don't you think?"

"I mean... I guess historically speaking it's got a bit of value." Richie shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm not like a huge nerd or anything. I just think it's kinda cool..." Eddie smiled. "It's so old, and kind of hard to understand... but if you just look at it harder, take the time to figure it out, it's not what it seemed at first. It can still relate to stuff today. It can be funny... It's not all serious..."

Richie smiled too as he stared back at Eddie. The smaller boy's smile actually looked genuine. His dark eyes seemed to shine with something more than the usual dread and fear that lingered there. "I guess so." Richie agreed, happy to see a spark of something more than bitterness and hopelessness in Eddie's eyes.

He wondered if Eddie saw something in those plays that he could see in himself... That they seemed so serious at first, but underneath, after someone looked harder, took time to understand them, they were funny, normal, worth reading - worth being around. Eddie seemed bitter and mean at first, but he wasn't. He was sweet and loving and innocent...

"So you like reading and like Shakespeare and stuff like that?" Richie asked as they continued walking.

"Kind of." Eddie shrugged. "I'm not gonna like pretend to be a genius or something. It is hard to understand. I don't just blow through a Shakespeare play and totally get it right away. But it's sort of cool."

"Maybe you can explain some of it to me." Richie suggested. "I read like two pages of it and gave up. I have no fucking idea what's happening."

"Okay." Eddie nodded, taking a turn down the street the house was on and exhaling tiredly as he looked down the street, seemingly realizing they were almost back.

"Just stick close to me, Eds." Richie whispered, leaning sort of close, but being sure not to get too close. "The whole rest of the day, and tomorrow too. Forever. Just stay near me. I won't let him hurt you."

Eddie frowned and looked down.

"Eddie, I'll fight back. If Patrick comes near you... if he so much as touches you, I'll punch him. Maybe he'll hit me back, totally kick my ass... But I'll do it anyway. I'll fight back until he gives up. I'm not gonna make it easy for him. If he wants to keep doing this awful shit, it's gonna be difficult at the very least." Richie promised.

Eddie forced a small smile, but didn't look convinced. "Just don't tell Mr. Salinger anything. He won't believe us... He might blame me..."

Richie felt his shoulders slump. That was heartbreaking, that Eddie thought someone would blame him for Patrick doing what he did last night. Richie wasn't sure what exactly Patrick did, but he had some guesses, and there was no way Eddie was to blame for it.

Richie led the way up the front steps and into the house.

"Edward? Is that you?" Mr. Salinger's voice shouted immediately as footsteps sounded from the kitchen.

Richie glanced behind him toward Eddie, whose eyes widened as he took a cautious step back toward the door they'd just come in.

Frowning, Richie turned toward the sound of Mr. Salinger's footfalls. What the hell was going on? Why was Eddie so scared? "It's me and Eddie, Sir." Richie said back as Mr. Salinger entered the hall. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine Richard... Edward, I got a call from your school today. You skipped first hour. Why'd you do that?" Mr. Salinger stared.

Richie turned toward Eddie, who shook his head silently as he stared with huge eyes.

"Why'd you cut class, Ed?" Mr. Salinger growled, taking another step forward.

Eddie whimpered softly and cowered back. "I didn't..." He whispered.

"You did. Don't you lie to me, boy. We have rules in this house. You're skipping class, and I want to know why. Now."

Mr. Salinger's voice was pretty harsh by this point, and he was slowly stepping closer, which made Richie feel rather panicked too. What would the guy do? Richie wasn't going to let him hurt Eddie, whether Eddie skipped class or not.

Richie raised his arm up across Eddie's chest, pushing him gently backward and shielding the smaller boy with his own body as he and Eddie both took steps back away from the increasingly angry-looking man.

"Don't you hide him from me. Richard, this has nothing to do with you. I want answers. We have rules. One of them is that you go to class. Why didn't you go, Edward?" Mr. Salinger demanded in a raised voice. "You must have a damn good reason, so let's hear it!"

"Stop fucking yelling at him!" Richie finally interjected. He could hear Eddie's quick breaths behind him. He was hyperventilating. "You're scaring him. I don't know if he skipped class, or why... but yelling at him isn't helping."

For a moment, everyone was silent. The only sound to be heard was Eddie's small, wheezy breaths.

"Do you need your inhaler, Eds? Do you have it with you?" Richie whispered, glancing back over his shoulder at Eddie.

Eddie nodded quickly, reaching with fumbling hands down toward his fanny pack and producing the medicine, taking a shaky puff and closing his eyes as he grabbed the back of Richie's shirt in a shaking fist.

"It's alright, Eddie. Just breathe..." Richie whispered, reaching a hand back and squeezing it over Eddie's. "He won't hurt you. I won't let him if he tries." Richie glared back at Mr. Salinger. He didn't put up with foster-families abusing him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to stand back and watch them hurt someone smaller and weaker than him. Eddie deserved someone to stand up for him for once.

Mr. Salinger exhaled an annoyed breath, then blinked a few times as tension melted out of his shoulders. He forced a smile and raised his hands in defense. "I'm not gonna hurt him... I won't hurt you, Edward. Remember? I already promised this. No physical punishments. I didn't mean to scare you... I just don't want you skipping class."

Richie felt his own breaths were a bit quick as he stared nervously at Mr. Salinger. He still wasn't confident the man wasn't going to freak out and attack one or both of them.

"I'll tell you what, kid... I won't ask any more questions. I'll give you a pass this one time. Okay?" Mr. Salinger's smile didn't look too genuine. Richie had a bad feeling that if he weren't here with Eddie right now, the man really might have hurt the smaller boy. "You just gotta promise not to skip again. Can you do that, son?"

Richie glanced back toward Eddie, who nodded silently.

"Okay... Why don't you boys go start on your homework. I'll start thinking about dinner. Any requests?" Mr. Salinger asked.

Eddie shook his head no. Richie did the same.

"Alright." Mr. Salinger exhaled. "Get to it... Just don't skip class and we'll be fine. I'm not mad. Not this time. Don't make it a habit. I don't want to be a jerk here, but you gotta go to school."

"Okay... Thank you, Mister... I'm sorry." Eddie breathed, squeezing his hand tight around the material of Richie's shirt. Richie could feel the smaller boy shaking.

"Come on, Eds. Let's go figure out that Shakespeare shit." Richie put his hand on Eddie's shoulder and led him up to their room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Eddie let out a loud exhale as he sat down on his bed and stared down at the floor. He shrugged out of Richie's jacket and held it out without looking up. "Thanks, Richie." He spoke in a tiny voice.

"No problem. You can borrow it any time. I'll wear my hoodie. Or you can wear the hoodie. Whichever you prefer." Richie smiled softly, sitting down on Eddie's bed next to him. "Can I sit here?"

"Yeah." Eddie answered, still looking down.

"You alright?" Richie wondered.

"Yeah. He just seemed really mad." Eddie laughed nervously. "I kinda thought he might hit me or something. I don't know... It was dumb. I freaked out for no reason, I guess."

Richie shook his head, putting his arm lightly around Eddie's shoulders and hugging him in a purposefully lose embrace. "It wasn't dumb. It was scary. The way he was yelling and closing in on us... I thought he might do something too."

Eddie forced another breathless laugh. "Anyway... Taming of the Shrew... Wanna figure it out? I can tell you what I understood, and we can go from there."

"Alright." Richie smiled. "Well, to start, what the hell's a shrew? Isn't it like a rat?"

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. "It's not the animal... It's like another word for... You know... like a bitch... Like a lady who acts like a shrew is just a mean bitchy person."

Richie laughed. "Very eloquent definition, Eds."

"Shut up, Richie." Eddie shoved Richie gently, but smiled, like maybe he kind of appreciated Richie's response. Like maybe they were becoming friends.

**xxxxxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 8**

**xxxxxx**

"Um..." Eddie hesitated, biting his lower lip as he watched Richie going trough his dresser, looking for clothing to wear to bed. "This is gonna sound like really fucking weird, but..."

Richie looked up with raised eyebrows. "Yeah?"

Eddie swallowed. Richie was going to tell him to fuck off. He was going to accuse him of being a freak and tell him to fuck right off.

"What is it, Eds?" Richie frowned.

"Do you think..." Eddie paused, breathing out a steadying breath. "Like, that when you're in the shower... that I can... Like just... um... just like sit in the bathroom. Like we'll lock the door, and you get in the shower and close the curtain and get undressed in there, and then take a shower, and I'll just sit on the toilet seat or something and wait... Just so I won't-"

"Yeah. That's fine. We can do that." Richie agreed quickly.

"I know it's weird-" Eddie started.

"No, I get it. It's fine. It's a good idea." Richie nodded.

"Okay." Eddie exhaled. Obviously it was a ridiculous thing to ask on the surface, but Richie clearly understood why Eddie was suggesting it. The last time Richie took a shower and Eddie was left alone in their room, Richie came back to find Patrick holding Eddie down, sexually assaulting him.

"I can stay in there while you shower after if you want." Richie suggested, grabbing up a handful of clothes and heading toward the bathroom.

Eddie hesitated. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was beginning to feel like he could actually trust Richie... On the other hand, he still barely knew him, and knew trusting anyone was foolish. Getting undressed in a locked bathroom with another boy in there - a boy slightly bigger and stronger than he was - seemed a bit reckless. Even with Richie seeming so nice, so harmless... Eddie knew better than to get too comfortable. He had known Richie for under two full days. Trusting him that much would be completely stupid.

"Just if you want." Richie added with a frown when Eddie didn't say anything back after a moment. "It's a suggestion. You don't have to."

"I think I'll just shower in the morning. I've been getting up pretty early so no one else will be in there. I don't want to get in anyone's way." Eddie noted.

"Alright." Richie shrugged, heading into the bathroom and letting Eddie follow him. Eddie locked the door behind them, then turned back toward Richie, who was already shrugging out of his shirt and kicking his pants off his legs. "Turn around if you don't want to see anything." Richie casually suggested.

Eddie quickly turned toward the door. Richie didn't seem too shy about this.

"So why'd you skip class?" Richie wondered as he pulled the shower curtain back and stepped inside.

Eddie frowned and sat down on the toilet seat lid, looking down at his feet as he listened to the water spill out of the shower head.

"Fuck, that's cold." Richie hissed.

Eddie smiled slightly. He kind of wished he and Richie could go live somewhere else together. The other boy was funny, gentle, seemingly harmless. Eddie was sort of jumpy, reluctant to trust anyone... but Richie had been so kind thus far, so supportive, even protective. Eddie hadn't felt this degree of care from another person maybe in forever.

"Oh yeah... Almost forgot. Can you put these somewhere?" Richie's hand reached out of the shower curtain. He was holding his glasses.

"You forgot to take them off?" Eddie laughed as he took the glasses. He always figured people with glasses would have gotten into a habit of taking them off before showering. Enough of a habit that they wouldn't even have to think about it. Richie was kind of weird though.

"Guess so. So why'd you cut class?" Richie asked again, unfortunately not forgetting his question just because Eddie had ignored it the first time.

"No reason, really. I just didn't feel like going." Eddie lied.

"Huh... You seem like the sort who'd rather die than skip school." Richie noted.

Eddie shrugged slightly. It was kind of true - for a lot of reasons. Eddie didn't like getting in trouble, and in this particular instance, he had skipped to go do something he completely fucking hated. Henry hurt him pretty bad, and what Patrick did was completely awful, terrifying, embarrassing.

Eddie looked down at Richie's glasses, then raised them up toward his eyes, looking through them. "God damn, Richie. Your eyesight is fucking terrible." Eddie noted, taking the glasses back off and blinking.

Richie let out a laugh. "Yeah, I know. I can't see shit in here right now."

Eddie smiled. It had been quite a while since he had someone in his life who he could just casually talk to about basically nothing. He'd had a few foster siblings who were alright, but he never felt a real connection. Richie was actually pretty nice. His personality was warm, genuine, sort of silly, but serious when it mattered.

Richie would probably be a really good brother. He was protective, but also fun. Eddie hoped he might get to be around Richie for a while, but didn't really want it to be here. He didn't want Patrick or Henry in his life, obviously, and Mr. Salinger was pretty scary too.

When the man had confronted Eddie immediately when the boy returned from school, Eddie had seriously feared he was going to be hurt. Mr. Salinger seemed really mad. Eddie was sure he was going to be beaten or otherwise painfully punished for skipping class.

He wondered what Mr. Salinger would have done if Richie weren't there. He wondered if the man only held back because there was a witness.

"So have you always lived in this area, Eds? I've been kind of nearby, but I actually never lived in this town before." Richie explained. "The school seems pretty average. No one's shoved me into a locker or tripped me down the stairs yet."

Eddie frowned as he glanced toward the shower for a second. "Did people do that at your other schools?"

"Sometimes." Richie answered. "Probably'll start back up again in high school when I'm one of the younger kids again. People don't respond well to younger kids with big dumb glasses and obnoxious personalities. But we're in eighth grade now, so we're the oldest kids in school. Though you look like you're seven." He added with a laugh.

"Fuck off, Richie." Eddie frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just joking. You look ten at least. It's a compliment though. Eddie, you're fucking adorable." Richie went on. "So you always lived in this town then or what?"

"I've been here most of the time, but not always." Eddie answered. "I actually lived pretty close to here a couple years ago. I got taken out of that home though. I was there for five months. Then I got out."

"Why?" Richie wondered. "What happened?"

"Just... they were bad people." Eddie answered very vaguely. He didn't want to spill all of his secrets to Richie just yet.

"Oh, okay... I got taken out of places for that kinda thing too." Richie noted.

"Really?" Eddie glanced toward the shower curtain, then looked away. He didn't know why he looked. He couldn't see Richie, and certainly didn't want to while the other boy was showering.

"Yeah. I had some who hit me. When I was really young there was a man and woman who just didn't pay attention... I sneaked out of the house and wandered into the street... I was like four. I just left because they weren't watching me. I mean, it wasn't like the type of abuse you think of when you think of abuse, but I could have gotten hit by a car or something." Richie laughed.

Eddie frowned as he stared down at the spot where the wall and the floor met. He wondered why Richie didn't seem bothered by his own past. Richie had foster parents who hit him, who neglected him... and he laughed when he talked about it.

Maybe he didn't think it was funny though. Maybe he just chose to laugh because being honest, expressing that he felt hurt by it, would be more painful. Eddie could understand that. It was the same reason he gave Richie half-answers rather than telling him about his foster-father who regularly physically and sexually abused him.

"Hand me that towel, Eds." Richie asked as he turned the shower off and stuck his hand out from behind the curtain.

Eddie did as he was asked, then walked over toward the door, staring at it so if Richie chose to get out of the shower and get dressed out in the open, Eddie wouldn't accidentally see anything.

"You sure you don't want me to hang out in here while you shower real quick?" Richie asked as he got dressed behind Eddie. "I don't mind."

Eddie shook his head. "No... I'll do it tomorrow morning. It'll be fine. Are you dressed yet?"

"Yeah. Where's my glasses?" Richie was squinting when Eddie turned around.

"Here." Eddie smirked, handing the other boy his glasses back.

Richie put them on and blinked a few times. "They're kinda fogged up." He laughed, then headed toward the door, unlocking and opening it. "We'll sleep with the door locked tonight. Make sure you wake me up if-"

Richie was cut off when he walked out the door only to immediately see Patrick glaring down at him.

Eddie let out a sharp breath and stared with wide eyes. He kind of wanted to just pull Richie back, slam the door, and re-lock it. But he knew that was a very temporary solution. They couldn't stay locked in the bathroom forever.

"What the fuck are you little fags doing in there?" Patrick narrowed his eyes, looking Richie up and down, then leaning to the side to better see Eddie. "He's all wet. You aren't..."

"None of your business, pervert. Let us through." Richie growled.

Patrick laughed. "No need to get hostile, four-eyes. I just didn't know we were doing sex shit in the shower..."

Eddie felt his eyes widen even further. "We're not..." He whispered.

"You just like hanging out in there together for no reason?" Patrick stared with a raised eyebrow.

"I was just talking to him while he was in the shower." Eddie squeaked.

"Stop. You don't have to explain shit to him, Eds. Move, Patrick. Let us through." Richie glared.

"Sure." Patrick smiled and stepped to the side.

Eddie looked down and followed Richie, but let out a sharp, startled wince when he felt Patrick reach out and grab his arm.

"Just sharing a bed room, huh?" Patrick stared down with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Eddie pulled his arm out of Patrick's grip and followed Richie, ignoring the comment. But his heart felt frozen in fear. Was Patrick going to hurt him for this? Would the older boy feel an unfounded sense of jealousy over Eddie spending time with Richie instead of with him? Did he really think Eddie and Richie were doing sex things?

"Come on, Eddie." Richie grabbed Eddie's hand and pulled him toward their room, quickly closing and locking the door behind them once they were inside. "Whatever you do, don't let him in. If he knocks on the door - if anyone does... If I don't wake up, wake me up." Richie suggested.

Eddie nodded, but he knew if he did that Patrick was going to be mad. He already got hurt pretty bad by not cooperating with him and Henry this morning.

"Seriously, Eds. You don't deserve this bullshit." Richie frowned. "Keep the door locked. If he tries anything, wake me up."

"Okay." Eddie whispered, but he honestly wasn't sure if he actually would do so. Patrick made himself very clear earlier today. Eddie wasn't allowed to tell him no.

**xxxxxx**


	9. Chapter 9

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 9**

**xxxxxx**

"You don't have a back pack, Eds?" Richie asked as he pulled his own onto his shoulders and watched Eddie grab two text books and a notebook with a pencil stuck in the spiral binding up into his arms.

Eddie shook his head no. They had had breakfast as a group - as a 'family' according to Mr. Salinger, and were now headed off to school. The middle school and the high school were within walking distance of the group home, so all four boys walked together. Richie hoped he could stall long enough that Patrick and Henry would leave without them.

"You wanna share mine?" Richie asked, taking one strap back off of his shoulder and unzipping the zipper more. "The zipper doesn't close all the way, but it still works."

Eddie shook his head no and hugged his books protectively against his chest.

Richie frowned slightly, but shrugged. Poor Eddie didn't even trust anyone enough to let someone else carry his fucking books for him. Considering what Richie knew happened two nights ago, considering Eddie's clothes were old and somewhat worn out, the smaller boy looked so put together. His hair was combed, he was clean. No visible bruises. Besides for looking kind of mad, he looked perfectly safe, perfectly fine. No teacher was going to see him and call DCFS. No one would possibly know anything was wrong.

"Let's go." Eddie blinked, staring up at Richie. "What are we waiting on?"

Richie shrugged. "Trying to see if Dipshit and Fuckface will go ahead of us if we stall for a minute."

A tiny hint of a smile tugged at Eddie's lips before he forced it to go away and resumed staring with a frown. "Well, I don't wanna be fucking late. Last thing I need is to get a reputation for being unreliable. I can't miss first hour, and I can't get detentions."

"You ever get one before?" Richie raised his eyebrows. Richie got them all the time. It wasn't a big deal. It was actually kind of nice sometimes. It gave him something to do, a little social interaction, a place to be that wasn't whatever he was calling home that month.

Eddie nodded, wide-eyed. "Yes. It wasn't even my fault." He looked so upset about it.

"Well, you survived." Richie laughed.

"Barely." Eddie whispered.

Richie frowned. "What do you mean?"

Eddie shook his head. "My foster-dad was just really mad. Never mind. Can we go now?"

Richie reluctantly nodded. "I guess."

Richie noticed Eddie stayed behind him as they made their way downstairs and toward the front door. Richie wasn't sure if the older boys left already or not, but he didn't immediately see them and didn't bother to look for them or ask Mr. Salinger if they were still here.

Instead, he quietly led Eddie outside and down the front steps, then started walking at a somewhat brisk pace down the sidewalk, hoping they could make it all the way to school without encountering the other boys.

"Why are you here?" Eddie spoke up after a minute. "I mean at the group home. What happened to your parents?"

Richie blinked. He didn't think Eddie would care to ask that question. Whether fair or not, Eddie didn't seem interested in making friends. Eddie didn't seem to give a shit about Richie's life. It was okay. He was obviously wrapped up in a lot of his own issues at the moment, but Richie honestly didn't expect the smaller boy to ask him such a personal question.

"Never mind." Eddie quickly shook his head and looked down at the sidewalk. "You don't have to say. Sorry."

"No. I'll tell you." Richie offered. "Don't apologize. It's okay. I'm glad you asked. I think I can trust you, Eds, and it feels good to get stuff outta my head sometimes."

Eddie scoffed softly and avoided eye contact. Maybe he didn't feel like he was worthy of Richie's trust. His self-esteem seemed pretty fucking low, considering he suggested that night Richie caught Patrick hurting him that maybe he deserved to be sexually abused.

"My parents just gave me up when I was pretty little." Richie shrugged.

"They just gave you away? They didn't have to? They just did it willingly? Why?" Eddie looked over with wide eyes.

"I don't know." Richie answered. It kind of hurt not having a clear answer on that. All he knew was that both of his parents chose to not keep him when he was three. He didn't know if they couldn't afford him, didn't like him, just wanted less responsibility... He didn't know. He probably never would.

"You don't know?" Eddie frowned.

Richie shook his head. "Maybe I was too much to handle?" He did get accused of being a pretty busy child when he was small. A lot of foster-families didn't seem to want to deal with him. "I've been told I'm obnoxious." Richie forced a laugh, trying to turn this around into something Eddie would find funny.

"I don't think you are." Eddie was still frowning. He didn't think it was funny.

Richie breathed out and shook his head. "It's alright. If they didn't want me, it's probably for the best. No one wants to live with parents who don't even like them. Right?"

Eddie nodded. "I guess so." He looked down as he continued walking.

"What about you? What happened to your parents... if you don't mind me asking..." Richie added. Eddie was so guarded. He might not be willing to share his own story.

"My dad died. I barely remember him." Eddie answered much more quickly and willingly than Richie would have guessed. "My mom loved me... I think... But she also loved it when I was sick."

"What?" Richie frowned. "Why would she love that you were sick?"

Eddie shook his head. "I guess she liked the sympathy and attention she got when I was sick? She'd tell everyone anytime I was in the hospital... Almost like she cared more about letting everyone know than actually making sure I was okay. Turns out she was making me sick on purpose... She'd give me stuff to make me sick, then cry and tell everyone how scared and sad she was about having a sick child, so they'd give her attention and donate money to help her pay my hospital bills."

"Oh my god... Fuck, Eddie... That's terrible." Richie stared. At least his mom just fucking didn't give a shit about him. What Eddie's mom did was fucking abuse. Horribly so.

"Yeah... That's what a judge thought too. So she lost custody... and then I went all over hell to different places to live with strangers who sucked even worse, in different ways." Eddie stared. "I wish I could have just stayed with her. Let her accidentally kill me. Then I wouldn't-"

"No." Richie interrupted. "Don't say that... Things are gonna get better from here. I promise." Richie wasn't sure if he could actually deliver on that, but he was going to try. "If no one else has ever had your back, let me be the first. I'm gonna make sure you're safe and taken care of Eds. It's my mission in life now."

Eddie laughed softly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "You just met me two days ago and I'm an asshole."

"An asshole with a good reason for being one. And a pretty fuckin' cute one, too." Richie smirked, reaching over and pinching Eddie's cheek. "I'm gonna be your friend whether you like it or not."

Eddie reached up and swatted Richie's hand away, then looked somewhat scared as his eye caught something behind him.

Richie turned in time to see Henry and Patrick coming up the sidewalk. "Fuck..." Richie breathed. He had hoped they were already gone, or at the very least, that Richie's quick pace would keep him and Eddie ahead of them.

"Where'd you little queers go so fast this morning?" Henry smirked as he walked up to them, immediately putting his hands on Eddie's shoulders and shoving him, really hard.

Eddie winced as he fell back, catching himself on his hands, then cowering down as Henry reached down to grab him.

"Leave him alone, Dickhead." Richie growled.

"Why? You in love with him or something?" Henry turned toward Richie as Eddie crawled away backwards.

"No. Just figured you wouldn't want to look like a fuckin' pussy beating up kids half your size." Richie quipped, feeling his heart beat quicken in his chest. He knew he was playing with fire here... He also knew if he was a more obvious target than Eddie, he might be able to attract all the attention from the bullies onto himself - away from the smaller boy.

"You're the one looking like a pussy, faggot." Henry growled, balling his hand into a fist and punching Richie hard across the face.

Richie groaned and choked out a pained breath as he stumbled back, raising a hand to his cheek. He was going to have a bruise there later... He'd have to come up with an excuse for Mr. Salinger if he didn't want Henry kicking his ass even worse later for telling the truth.

Richie winced as Henry put his hands against Richie's shoulders and shoved him back hard, sending him straight to the ground. The next thing he felt was a kick to his side, which knocked all the breath out of him.

"Stop!" Eddie's shaking voice pleaded from somewhere nearby. "Henry stop! Please!"

"Why? You want some of this?" Henry growled, turning his attention toward Eddie. Eddie whimpered softly and cowered down as he stared silently back at the older boy.

"Henry, no." Patrick spoke up.

Richie looked up from his spot on the ground and watched as Patrick made his way over to Eddie, hauling him up off the ground by his arm and pulling him close, in a way that almost looked protective. Eddie seemed extremely uncomfortable, but remained still.

"This one's mine, Bowers." Patrick stared. "Remember? As long as he plays nice with me, you leave him alone. You're gonna play nice, right Pretty Boy?" Patrick breathed, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's arms.

Eddie let out a tiny, choked whimper as he stared at the ground, leaning slightly away when Patrick leaned down and whispered something else into his ear. "Okay?" Patrick spoke a little louder as he leaned away, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's arms.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded slightly. His breaths were shaking. He looked very close to tears.

"What the fuck's wrong with you guys?" Richie growled, pulling himself up off the ground, noticing a woman coming out of her house across the street. Hopefully her presence would be enough to keep Henry and Patrick from doing anything else.

Henry seemed to notice her too, because he waved Patrick over. "Come on, Pat."

Patrick let go of Eddie and followed Henry.

Richie breathed out a shaky breath as he stared at Eddie, who just stood still and silent on the sidewalk, still looking down.

"Eds... You okay?" Richie spoke, walking up to the smaller boy, contemplating putting his hands on his shoulders, but quickly thinking better of it. Eddie seemed a bit nervous about physical contact with other people.

Eddie's lower lip trembled as he continued staring down at the ground.

"Eddie." Richie leaned down slightly so he could see the smaller boy's face. He had tears in his eyes. "What'd he say to you?" Richie stared. Eddie looked like he was about to throw up.

"Nothing." Eddie shook his head, reaching down and picking up the books had had dropped when Henry initially pushed him and heading down the sidewalk. "Let's just get to fucking school, okay?"

Richie nodded, running up beside Eddie. "Did he threaten you?" He asked.

Eddie shook his head.

Richie frowned. Patrick had to have threatened him. He said something that made Eddie look like he had seen a ghost.

"There's more people we could tell than just Mr. Salinger you know..." Richie suggested.

"No!" Eddie glared. "Just stop, Richie... Stop trying to help. Please..."

Richie frowned and looked down. "I'm sorry..." Richie whispered. He had just promised Eddie he'd keep him safe and he already failed. He'd just have to keep trying, and try harder.

"It's okay. Don't be sorry... Just..." Eddie breathed, then shook his head and licked his lips. "Just... Don't tell anyone. Telling people makes this stuff worse. Trust me."

"I know." Richie frowned. He'd experienced things like this before. He had a foster brother once who regularly beat him up. When he told the foster-mom (the older boy's biological mother) everything got a lot worse. Obviously the woman chose to believe her son over the annoying kid she barely knew.

Eddie stared over at Richie with a frown. "I'm sorry, Richie... I'm sorry I'm a fucking dickhead. I'm sorry I'm being a mean, bitter piece of shit. I just..." His voice shook slightly as a sharp breath took away the rest of his words.

"No. It's okay..." Richie breathed. "It's alright. You're not being a dick... It's fine." Richie nodded. "This is scary. You're scared. I get it."

Eddie's lower lip trembled as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked down and breathed in a tiny, shaking breath.

Richie felt his own shoulders slump. Eddie looked so tiny, so scared and sad. "Can I hug you, Eds?" He breathed.

Eddie nodded, biting his lower lip, then choking out a small sob.

Richie exhaled as he pulled the smaller boy into a hug. "We're gonna figure life out, Eds. We'll make it through this shit storm together." He promised.

**xxxxxx**


	10. Chapter 10

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 10**

**xxxxxx**

That night, Eddie made sure not to go into his room alone until Richie was there too. He and Richie stayed together pretty much constantly when they weren't at school, unless one of them was in the bathroom. Eddie could hardly believe Richie cared enough about his well-being to allow it, but he appreciated it. No one had ever seemed to care about him to that extent before. He wasn't sure why Richie gave a damn, but he did.

While Richie showered that night, Eddie forced himself to follow Mr. Salinger around, asking him questions with answers he really didn't care about. He just wanted to be talking to him, so he'd have a reason to be near him without looking horribly clingy. Mr. Salinger didn't even seem to think it was odd. He just kept talking, answering every pointless question Eddie asked him.

He'd learned that Mr. Salinger had a thirty year old son who lived in Maryland. He had a wife once, but they got divorced. He grew up in foster homes too. Eddie figured maybe that was why Mr. Salinger was so cold and detached now. Eddie wondered if he'd end up that way too...

Now he was in his room, under all of his blankets, hiding from monsters that were all too real. Richie was sleeping in the other bed, breathing soft, even breaths. The other boy clearly was having an easier time sleeping than Eddie was.

Eddie stared at the closed door as he heard footsteps approaching. He breathed in a small breath and shrunk down. Would Patrick come in here with Richie here too? He didn't last night. Richie seemed to scare him away last time... But would that last? Clearly Richie was no match for the older boys either. Maybe Henry and Patrick would even work together on this. Henry could hold Richie back while Patrick hurt Eddie.

Letting out a shaking, yet relieved breath as the footsteps went on past the door, Eddie closed his eyes. If Patrick hurt him again - like he did two nights ago, or like he tried to the previous morning - Eddie was going to just leave. He wasn't staying here. He couldn't live like this. The free food, the roof over his head, the access to a shower and heat... None of it was worth it. He'd rather starve and freeze and be dirty than let Patrick keep doing this to him.

Eddie breathed in sharp breath and shrunk down again as the footsteps returned. This time, they stopped in front of the door. He watched the lock turn... Whoever was out there had the key, or was picking the lock.

Biting his lower lip and shrinking down in the bed, Eddie stared as the door opened very slowly and Patrick slipped inside.

"Come on." Patrick whispered, nodding toward him.

Eddie's lip trembled as tears stung at his eyes. Patrick had told him earlier - when he and Henry cornered him and Richie outside on the way to school, that he was going to do something to him tonight. He said they'd be quiet, that the whole thing would be their little secret. Eddie wasn't sure how he was going to swing it, but Patrick seemed to have a plan - to take him out of the room. Maybe they'd go to Patrick's room instead this time.

"Come on." Patrick whispered again. His voice had an edge to it, a warning that Eddie needed to do what he was told before things got hostile.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulled back his covers and stepped out of his bed, shivering as his body was exposed to the chill air in the room, and his heart clenched with fear. He glanced at Richie, who was still sound asleep. He kind of wanted to wake him up, to beg Richie to help him... but what if Patrick hurt Richie because of Eddie? Eddie didn't want that.

"Hey... Pretty Boy." Patrick's voice sounded more agitated the longer it took Eddie to comply. "Come on." He hissed.

Eddie swallowed and stepped toward the door, blinking back tears and holding his breath.

Patrick smiled, raising his hand up and putting it on Eddie's shoulder, leading him down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" Eddie whispered, his voice trembling as he shivered.

"You cold, Eddie?" Patrick frowned, rubbing his hand up and down the younger boy's arm.

"Where are we going?" Eddie ignored his question.

"We're gonna take a nice, warm shower." Patrick smiled. "Then you won't be shivering anymore."

Eddie swallowed and his legs stopped working as he stared wide-eyed up at Patrick. He couldn't bring himself to continue walking. A shower? Both of them in there together? They'd both be completely naked, in a locked room... With water running, making noise so no one would hear if Eddie cried - which meant Patrick wouldn't have to be as careful not to hurt him too bad.

He could guess what kinds of things Patrick might be planning to do to him, but he didn't want to. He didn't even want to begin to speculate what might be in store for him if he went along with this.

"Come on. Don't make me get rough." Patrick warned.

Eddie felt his lip tremble as he stared through his unshed tears. "Patrick, please..." He whispered, his voice shaking. "Can I please just go back to bed? I don't wanna do this... I'm so tired..." He whimpered. He couldn't bear this. It wasn't even once in a while. It was every single day. He hated it so much. This wasn't a life worth living - being hurt in such a degrading, humiliating way over and over, non-stop with no way out.

"You'll be okay." Patrick promised, leading Eddie into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Now you won't have to shower in the morning." He smirked. "We'll have a bit of fun, get warmed up, get you nice and clean..."

Eddie hugged his arms around himself and stared at the floor, listening to the sound of the lock on the door clicking. Then Patrick turned toward him with a sinister smile.

"Take off your clothes, Pretty Boy." He ordered.

"Please, Patrick..." Eddie whimpered, squeezing his arms tighter around his chest. "Please don't hurt me..."

"I won't. Just fucking relax." Patrick laughed, stepping forward and reaching for Eddie's t-shirt.

Eddie whimpered and shrunk back. "Please don't!" He whispered.

"Don't fight me on this. I won't hurt you if you just do what I say. Alright?" Patrick glared. "Chill out. Just do this... We can do it gentle and nice, or hard and rough. If you fight with me, it's gonna hurt."

Eddie's lip shook as tears started spilling down his cheeks, but he took off his shirt as ordered, holding it in in his hands and staring at the floor. He twisted it nervously between shaking fingers, refusing to look up at Patrick.

"Take off your little boxer shorts." Patrick reminded him, taking a step behind him to turn on the shower.

Eddie remained frozen in fear as he listened to the water spray out of the shower head and hit the tiles below. His heart pounded in his chest so hard that he felt like he might pass out. It sounded even louder in his head than the shower water did behind him. He was so scared.

Patrick exhaled an annoyed breath when he stepped back in front of Eddie and saw that he still hadn't removed his shorts. He reached down and tugged them down himself, shoving Eddie's leg so that Eddie stepped out of them with a shaking sob.

Eddie reached down with his hands to cover himself. His cries grew louder, shakier, more out of breath as he saw out of the corner of his eye, Patrick undressing himself too.

Eddie's breaths were growing shorter and shorter. He was going to pass out if he didn't get this under control. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing though. "P-Patrick..." He whimpered, shaking in fear and from being so cold. "P-please... I c-can't b-bre-breathe..." He choked... "Pl-please let me g-go back..."

"Shhhh..." Patrick whispered, grabbing Eddie's upper-arms and shoving him toward the shower. "You're okay. We're friends, remember? I don't want to hurt you. This is gonna feel good. Just relax."

Eddie cried breathlessly as he stepped into the shower, pretty much just allowing Patrick to move him where he wanted him. The water spilling out of the shower head and onto his chest was warm. It would have felt nice if Eddie weren't completely fucking terrified.

"Your skin is so fucking soft." Patrick breathed, rubbing his hands over Eddie's chest. At some point he had poured some kind of soap into his palm and was lathering it up over Eddie's shoulders and chest. He traced his fingers down over Eddie's ribs, running them across bruises Henry had created several days before, turning various colors under the fresh ones he created yesterday. "Those still hurt?" He asked in a low voice.

"Y-yes..." Eddie whimpered.

"Shhhh, I'm not hurting you. I'm being gentle." Patrick assured him, putting his hand on Eddie's lower back and pulling him closer.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and felt himself grow stiff as he felt Patrick's wet skin pressed against his own. This reminded him way too much of his former foster father, the one who made him shower with him, who told him he had to help him clean himself so it would be done correctly. The guy used so much soap, rubbing all over Eddie so much more than he needed to, focusing on his genitals, lying and saying it was necessary to clean that area extremely thoroughly.

His lower lip trembled as Eddie remained frozen in fear, as Patrick's hands ran up and down his body. His fingers snaked down Eddie's back, down between his cheeks, kind of how he did two nights ago, only without actually penetrating him. Patrick's other hand ran down between Eddies legs, scrubbing soap there for a long, awkward few seconds.

Patrick didn't linger on this for long. Maybe only a minute or two. Then he put his hands firmly on Eddie's upper arms and turned him around. Eddie choked out shaking, heartbroken sobs, trying to keep himself from fighting back when Patrick pushed him face-first against the wall.

"Just relax." Patrick spoke in a low voice, running his hand down Eddie's back, down over his butt, over his thigh. He pushed Eddie's leg a bit to the side, leaning down close. Eddie could feel the older boy's body pressed up against his back, holding him in place.

"Please don't, Patrick!" Eddie choked breathlessly. "Don't hurt me..."

Eddie flinched and felt Patrick do the same when a knock sounded at the door.

"God damn it." Patrick grumbled. "Keep your fucking mouth shut." He whispered threateningly into Eddie's ear.

"Eddie, you in there?" It was Richie's voice.

"Nope. Just me." Patrick called out in response.

Eddie felt his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know if he should stay quiet or not. Richie wanted to help him... but was he even in the position to do so? Would calling out to the other boy help? Would Richie find a way to save him? And then what...? Would Patrick get mad and hurt him worse, hurt Richie too?

Swallowing, Eddie stared ahead at the shower wall. He focused his attention on Patrick's hand on his leg, his other hand holding Eddie's arm in a hard fist. Eddie could feel Patrick's penis pressed up against his back. Patrick was probably going to rape him with it. That's what he was getting ready to do. That was what was going to happen in about five seconds if Eddie didn't do something to stop it. It was going to hurt horribly. This wasn't hands rubbing between his legs, humiliating but physically harmless, or a little thumb or a couple fingers forced into him, also humiliating and uncomfortable, but not something he was going to have to go to the E.R. for. It was even worse than yesterday by the football field, which was awful, but didn't necessarily hurt him much physically. This was going to really, really fucking hurt. Maybe enough that Eddie would actually have to go to the hospital. He might not have a choice...

He had to call out. He had to try to save himself from this. Patrick was going to hurt him more than he'd ever been hurt in his life. Eddie had never had anyone do this to him before. Never like this. Never this horrifying. The whole point of allowing Patrick to do things to him without screaming or fighting back was to keep himself from being hurt worse... this was about as worse as it could get.

"Eddie?" Richie called out again.

"It's just me, faggot. Move on." Patrick growled.

"You sure?" Richie's voice called out again. "Eds? You in there?"

Patrick exhaled an annoyed breath. "It's only me, four-eyes. Fuck."

"Richie, help!" Eddie finally screamed before he could tell himself not to.

"Eddie!" Richie's voice sounded pretty worried now as he pounded on the door again, trying the doorknob in a way that sounded pretty frantic. "Let me in, Patrick! Let me in right fucking now!"

"God damn it." Patrick squeezed his hands hard around Eddie's arm and over his thigh. "Go outta here, Richie. I'll break his fucking neck."

Eddie whimpered in pain and fear. "Richie, help me!" He screamed shakily.

"Shut up." Patrick growled, shoving Eddie hard up against the shower wall, pressing a hand over his face and pulling him back against his body. "Now I'm gonna hurt you on purpose, you little fucker. I'm gonna tear you to fucking shreds."

Eddie groaned in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He could barely breathe. He was so scared. His heart was pounding so hard he couldn't even hear himself, Richie, or Patrick anymore. He just heard pounding, and his own wheezing breaths.

"Eddie! Let him go, Patrick!" Richie shouted on the other side of the door, pounding on it with his fist. Richie's voice sounded muffled, like Eddie was under water, or like Richie was all the way across the house. "Open the door! Patrick, let him go!" Richie's muffled voice demanded.

Eddie's heart pounded in his ears as his vision clouded over at the edges. He was going to faint. He was so fucking scared. His breaths were so short... He was going to pass out. He wondered if Patrick would keep going in that case.

"Hold still, you little fucker." Patrick breathed near Eddie's ear, shoving his leg further to the side. "This is gonna fuckin' hurt you so bad." He growled, pressing his penis threateningly up between Eddie's cheeks, slowly forcing it into him.

Eddie tried to scream past Patrick's hand. He struggled to move, but couldn't. He was trapped. He could hear commotion in the hallway still, but could no longer focus on what was being said. Was it just Richie out there still? It sounded like more than just him.

"Go ahead and cry you little piece of trash. I hope it hurts bad." Patrick growled, forcing himself further into Eddie's body as the younger boy moaned in pain and tried to shrink way.

"God damn it, move." Mr. Salinger's angry voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. Eddie's ears perked up. What was happening? "I'm coming in, you god damned little perverts! You both know the rules. God damn it!"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you for this." Patrick growled, shoving Eddie hard against the wall, but letting go and taking a step back.

Eddie sobbed breathless sobs, holding onto the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. He still felt like he was going to pass out. He didn't think he was significantly hurt, but his heart pounded so hard and his breaths were so short.

"What the fuck are you kids doing?" Mr. Salinger's voice growled as he yanked the shower curtain back and turned off the water. "Are you fucking kidding me!?"

Eddie shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to speak. He heard Henry's laughter in the hallway and Richie shouting something. Everyone in the whole house was here. Everyone could see him, naked, crying. His vision was so dark around the edges. His breaths were so short and shallow. He wasn't even sure if his eyes were opened or closed, if he was fainting, or if he just hadn't opened his eyes back up.

"Son of a bitch. I told each one of you..." Mr. Salinger huffed, grabbing out at Eddie's arm and pulling him rather roughly out of the shower. "I warned you... None of this nasty sex shit. You're fuckin' kids... Jesus fucking Christ."

"Let him go!" Richie's voice shook from the hallway. "It's not his fault! Patrick made him!"

"That true?" Mr. Salinger looked at Patrick.

"No." Patrick scoffed. "Eddie loves me. He lives for this shit. Been begging for it all day. Right, Eddie?" He reached over and ran a hand through Eddie's hair and then down over his cheek.

Eddie reached up and shoved Patrick's hand away. "Get off of me!" He sobbed, feeling Mr. Salinger yanking him pretty hard by his arm. He felt a towel being wrapped around him. Salinger grabbed Eddie's hand, forcing him to hold the towel up as he shoved the boy toward the hallway and someone's hands out there caught him.

"No!" Eddie sobbed, struggling under the unknown hands. He was so panicked right now. He couldn't even focus on who was holding onto him. "Let go! Get off of me!" He screamed, thrashing and cowering down.

"It's me, Eds." Richie whispered, pulling him protectively against his chest. "It's okay. You're okay. You're gonna be okay now." Richie hugged him closer.

Eddie sobbed breathless, choking sobs. He let Richie hug him tight. He was so embarrassed, so scared. Patrick told him not to tell anyone about any of this, and now everyone in the entire house knew. Of course, Mr. Salinger was probably the only one who didn't know most of it already... but he did now, and Patrick was going to be pissed about that.

"Sir..." Richie directed his words back toward Mr. Salinger as he hugged his arms around Eddie's shoulders and held him close. Eddie hid his face against the other boy's chest, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to focus on breathing. "Patrick's been making him do this. Eddie didn't want to." Richie spoke up, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah?" Mr. Salinger scoffed. "That's what they always say. You get caught doing shit you're not supposed to be doing, and the tears just flow like Niagara Falls. I don't tolerate this shit. This is completely inappropriate. You both know better, and your fucking tears aren't fooling me."

Eddie sobbed breathlessly as Richie hugged him closer. He knew Mr. Salinger wouldn't believe him if he told him. He knew there was no way out of this. Now Patrick was just going to hurt him worse later.

"Patrick was raping him, you asshole!" Richie growled. "Look at him! He's terrified! He's in pain! He can barely breathe!"

"He's just upset he got caught. I'd probably be embarrassed enough to cry if someone caught me doing that too. Jesus Christ... Patrick, Henry... Go to your room. I'll come by to talk to you later, Patrick. You're in a lot of fucking trouble, young man. We've been over this... This kid is thirteen fucking years old. Go to your room." Mr. Salinger ordered. "Edward, you're coming with me."

Eddie breathed in a tiny, wheezing breath, shrinking back against Richie and shaking his head as he stared back at Mr. Salinger though his tears. What was Mr. Salinger going to do? Punish him? He said earlier that he didn't do physical punishment... but was it true? What would he do then? "I d-didn't..." Eddie stammered, his voice shaking so much he could barely manage to speak.

"Come on, kid. I don't have all fucking night." Mr. Salinger grumbled, reaching out and grabbing Eddie's arm.

"What are you gonna do?" Richie breathed, refusing to let go of Eddie.

"Gonna talk this out. Get to the bottom of it... Punish him if he needs to be punished." Salinger answered, pulling Eddie rather roughly away from Richie's protective hands. "You can go back to your room, Richard. I got this under control."

Eddie whimpered a shaking sob. He could still barley breathe. He was really scared of Mr. Salinger. Last time the man was angry with him, Eddie had been pretty sure the man would have hit him if Richie weren't there. Now he was trying to take Eddie off by himself...

"What do you mean you're gonna punish him?" Richie whispered, staring with wide eyes that looked even huger than normal behind his glasses.

"I won't hurt him, Richard. This has nothing to do with you. So just go back to your room. I'll call you down to come get him when we're done." Mr. Salinger ordered.

"When you're done with what? You're not gonna hurt him... so what then? How are you gonna punish him?" Richie stared.

Mr. Salinger exhaled a long breath. "It's not your business. Extra chores, revoked privileges, maybe a call to his social worker-"

"No!" Eddie interrupted with a shaking whimper. "Please don't call her!"

"Richard." Mr. Salinger's voice was stern as his grip around Eddie's arm tightened enough to make the boy wince in pain. "Go to your room. Now. Edward and I are going to talk this out and figure out where to go from here. It doesn't involve you."

"I won't say anything... I won't try to speak for him or anything..." Richie breathed. "He's really scared... Can I just-"

"No." Mr. Salinger growled. "Room. Now." He looked back toward Henry and Patrick who still hadn't left. Patrick had a towel around his waist and didn't seem at all ashamed to be practically naked in front of everyone. Eddie was ashamed of his own nudity. "Go to your rooms, right now." Mr. Salinger ordered again. "I have just about had it with all four of you."

Eddie winced when Mr. Salinger's hand squeezed hard around his upper arm. The man dragged him down toward the stairs, while Eddie looked backward, making eye-contact with Richie, who looked pretty lost, like he was thinking about following.

Eddie shook his head, silently telling Richie to please just let it go. If Richie made this into an issue, he'd just get himself in trouble too.

**xxxxxx**


	11. Chapter 11

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 11**

**xxxxxx**

Mr. Salinger dragged Eddie fairly roughly down the stairs and into the room with the fireplace, which Eddie hadn't spent that much time in thus far. Eddie could tell the man was angry, that he didn't feel like Eddie was a victim in all of this. He wasn't treating Eddie like he'd just saved him as much as he'd just caught him.

Eddie's heart pounded in his chest. He felt extremely lightheaded. Almost every single time a foster-parent had looked at him how Mr. Salinger was, had yelled at him in such angry tones... Something painful followed. He'd be beaten, forced to stand outside in the cold, sometimes even something sexual. Eddie didn't know Mr. Salinger well enough to guess what was coming, but whatever it was, he didn't think it was anything good.

"M-Mr. Salinger..." Eddie whimpered, his breaths still extremely short, wheezy, painful. "P-please don't hurt me..." He choked. "I didn't do anything. P-Patrick made me... I didn't want to... Please... Please don't hurt me..." He begged breathlessly. "I'm sorry it happened. I didn't want it to... Please don't hurt me. Please!"

Mr. Salinger shook his head in disappointment as he stared down at Eddie. "I'm not going to hurt you, Edward. We've discussed that already. I'm not a child abuser. I'm just really damn disappointed."

Eddie's lip trembled as tears welled up in his eyes. How the hell was Mr. Salinger disappointed in Eddie? Eddie wasn't the one forcing other kids to do sexual things with him. Eddie didn't do anything but get forced into doing humiliating, degrading, painful things. He had no choice. Patrick would have hurt him otherwise, probably would have dragged him to the shower and done it all even if Eddie was kicking and screaming the whole way there.

The man exhaled a long, loud breath when Eddie didn't say anything back. "Why the hell would you let him do that to you?" Mr. Salinger growled, shoving Eddie a few steps into the room and closing the door behind them.

"I-" Eddie hesitated. He didn't let Patrick do anything. Patrick just did it.

"You're fucking tiny. You can't let older boys do that shit to you. Excluding the fact that it's fucking disgusting - that you're not allowed to have god damned sex of any kind under this roof... Why him? Why that tall, hulking eighteen year old fucking kid? You realize I'm probably going to have to take you to the hospital? We'll have to report this, let them examine you... That means they're gonna look in your ass, using some kinda awful, cold, metallic fucking surgical tool. I'm gonna have to fucking explain how you got injuries like that, on my watch..." The man ranted. "If they suspect I did it, I'm gonna be so mad. I never hurt a kid. Ever. And then you and this fucking creepy pervert go and do this, make me look bad. Make people maybe suspect I encourage or allow this... There's gonna be a shit load of questions all of us are going to have to answer about this."

"I'm not hurt... I don't have to go to the hospital..." Eddie breathed, staring with huge, wide eyes. He definitely didn't want to go to the hospital, and he really did feel pretty confident he wasn't hurt. Patrick had started forcing his penis into him, but he didn't get far. It hurt for a moment, and then he stopped. Eddie could barely even tell anymore that it had even happened. There was a sort of dull pain down there, but nothing big, no stinging or stabbing feeling. He was pretty sure he was okay, that he didn't need medical attention.

"You're built like a god damned eight year old. That kid, whether you wanted to do it or not, is too damn big. There's no way you're not hurt right now." Mr. Salinger growled.

Eddie shook his head. He wasn't hurt, not bad enough to need to see a doctor. Maybe Mr. Salinger was overestimating how far Patrick got. "I'm not hurt... I don't need to go to the hospital... J-just... Can we get Patrick out of here? Or me? C-can I go somewhere else?"

Salinger stared back at him. He looked angry. "You're not going anywhere. You don't get to fucking shop for foster families, kid. You go where you're told, and you do what you're told. Patrick's not going anywhere. The four of you are my fucking responsibility and we've gotta figure out how to live together."

"But-" Eddie started.

"No. You shut your mouth. I made the rules so damn clear." Mr. Salinger hissed. "So, so damn clear. What did you not understand, Edward? Why would you let him do that?"

"I didn't..." Eddie whispered, shrinking down.

"You did. You went with him. I didn't hear you screaming." Mr. Salinger frowned. "Not until your friend was trying to break the damn door down. If you didn't want to do it, you should have called for help. I wouldn't have let him do that to you. If I knew... But you just didn't say shit. You just quietly let him do it. No screaming. No fighting."

Eddie felt his mouth drop open slightly. "He... He would have hurt me..." His lip trembled as fresh tears stung at his eyes. Maybe he should have fought back more. Maybe this was his fault. Patrick told him to come with him to the shower... Richie was right there in the room and Eddie stayed quiet. Mr. Salinger would have heard him if he started screaming out in the hallway. Was this his fault?

"He hurt you anyway, kid." Mr. Salinger scoffed. "I don't believe this... You can't just let people do this shit, then cry and call it rape when you get caught. I wouldn't have ever guessed you'd be the one I'd have to have this talk with. You seemed so tiny and cute and innocent... You skip class, you do this... I just didn't expect to walk in and find you with another kid's dick up your ass."

Eddie choked out a shaking sob, looking down at the floor. "I didn't want to..." He repeated, feeling his breaths become more ragged again.

"Then you fuckin' tell him no. Are you god damned serious right now?" Mr. Salinger stared. "You don't go into a shower with another kid, get naked with him... If you don't want him to do what he was doing... Why the hell would you take off your clothes and get into the shower with him? What did you think would happen?"

Eddie continued sobbing breathlessly, grabbing the front of the towel wrapped around him with shaking fingers. He just didn't want Patrick to hurt him worse, or to let Henry hurt him. It didn't feel like he had a choice.

Mr. Salinger shook his head. "Richard says Patrick's been making you do this stuff for a while... Did he do it before? Any other times? I mean, how fuckin' torn up down there are you? Did he hold you down? You got bruises?" He reached out and grabbed Eddie's arm, eliciting a sharp breath from the boy.

Eddie remained silent as Mr. Salinger held onto his arm, looking it up and down, running his fingers over narrow, finger-shaped bruises on the boy's arms and wrists.

"He really did hold you down, huh... Why didn't you tell me?" Mr. Salinger glared. He still looked mad, like he was more angry with Eddie for not telling than with Patrick for actually doing it. "He's been doing this shit to you for days and you just didn't say anything? If you didn't want to do it, you'd have told me. No one lets somebody rape him up the ass for days when there's a way out right there. All you'd have to do is tell me and I would have told him to stop."

Eddie swallowed. "I was scared..." He whispered. "I'm still scared. I'm telling you now, and you're blaming me..."

"You're not telling me. This isn't you asking for help. This is me interrogating you after I caught you doing things you weren't supposed to be doing." Mr. Salinger stared. "I'd consider this more of a confession than a plea for help."

Eddie shook his head and sniffed a shaking, tear-filled breath.

Mr. Salinger exhaled and shook his head. "Tell the truth now. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the E.R.?"

Eddie's eyes widened as he shook his head no.

"Let me see." Mr. Salinger demanded, reaching out and grabbing at the towel Eddie had wrapped around him.

Eddie gasped and shrunk back, covering himself with his hands as Mr. Salinger removed the towel completely. "Please, Mr. Salinger..." Eddie whispered, backing slowly away. "J-just let me go back to my room... Please..." What was Mr. Salinger going to do? Eddie was completely naked without the towel, completely vulnerable.

"Did he hit you here?" Mr. Salinger reached out toward Eddie's ribs.

Eddie hissed a sharp breath and flinched back. He wasn't supposed to tell this man any of this. Henry and Patrick were both going to be so fucking mad at him. They were going to hurt him so bad.

"You gotta tell me everything, Edward. There's no secrets in this house. Not from me. I'm the one who's gonna get blamed if someone sees all these fucking bruises." Mr. Salinger stared.

Eddie choked out a shaking sob, shrinking down and shaking his head. He'd already said too much. He didn't want to say anything else. Even telling Mr. Salinger a big chunk of the truth, it seemed Eddie was still being blamed for this. Telling him did Eddie no favors. He was just going to make Patrick and Henry more angry with him. They were going to really fucking hurt him once they got their hands on him.

"I don't want to get in trouble for this shit. It's your fault you let this kid do this to you. Now I gotta make sure you're not hurt. If you've got untreated injuries, I'm the one who's gonna be in trouble for it, for letting it happen, for not getting it looked at. I'm acting as your guardian, so I need to know you're not seriously hurt. Move your hands." Mr. Salinger ordered.

Eddie's lip trembled as tears filled his eyes. He shook his head no.

Mr. Salinger exhaled a frustrated breath, grabbing Eddie's arm and tugging his hand away from his groin. "I ain't gonna hurt you, Edward. I just wanna make sure you're not already hurt. Did Patrick um..." He cleared his throat as he hesitated. "Did he, uh... like do it? Did he actually do it?"

Eddie looked down, nodding yes. "A little bit..." He whispered.

Mr. Salinger shook his head as though completely disappointed in Eddie. "Turn around." He ordered.

Eddie breathed out a shaking breath. His lip trembled as fear seized his heart. "Mr. Salinger... Please..." He choked, shaking his head and taking steps back away from the man. "Please just let me go back. I don't wanna do this... I'm fine..."

"Come here." Mr. Salinger waved him over toward a couch in the middle of the room, patting the back of it. "Lean over this. I'll check you out really quick, make sure you're not bleeding... Then you can go back."

Eddie stared at him. His breaths were growing more and more frantic. He was going to faint if he didn't get his breathing under control. His inhaler was up in his room. He really felt like he might need it.

"Edward." Mr. Salinger glared. "Now. Or you're gonna be in a whole lot of trouble."

Swallowing and exhaling a painful, shaking breath, Eddie walked over to the couch, standing awkwardly behind it. He bit his lower lip and looked up at Mr. Salinger through his tears. "P-please don't hurt me... I didn't want to do what Patrick made me do... I didn't... I tried to tell him no. He said he'd hurt me. I didn't know what do... Please don't, Mr. Salinger. Please don't hurt me..."

"I won't hurt you. Calm down." Mr. Salinger put his hand lightly on Eddie's back, firmly but somewhat gently pushing him toward the couch, bending him over the back of it so that his chest was pressed against the front of the back-rest. His head was practically touching the cushions... and his bottom was embarrassingly pointed up and on full-display.

Eddie choked out small, shaking sobs as he felt Mr. Salinger's hands on his butt, spreading his cheeks in order to inspect the damage Patrick may have caused. At least, he hoped that's all the man was doing. It wasn't like Eddie was going to be able to do anything about it if Mr. Salinger decided he liked what he saw, if he decided what Patrick did sounded pretty fun and chose to do the same thing.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his hands in loose fists up toward his mouth and whimpering frightened breaths as he felt Mr. Salinger's thumbs threateningly close, pulling, spreading... not penetrating, but so close.

"He actually shoved his dick in you?" Mr. Salinger sounded like he was frowning.

Eddie breathed in a tiny, wheezing breath. He couldn't bring himself to speak. He was shaking so badly. He felt so close to passing out.

"Doesn't look like it would possibly fit." Mr. Salinger noted, still prodding embarrassingly with his fingers, running this thumbs lightly over the potentially injured area, still stretching Eddie's skin uncomfortably and awkwardly as he painstakingly inspected the boy for injuries.

"I'm not a damn doctor... Sure as hell not this kind of doctor." Mr. Salinger complained, pressing his thumbs down in a sort of opening motion, trying to see if Eddie had any visible injuries down there. "If you're hurt it would be up here at the surface, right? I mean... I don't know how to check down deeper." He laughed slightly. "Not unless I get like a kleenex and shove it in... see if it comes out bloody." He chuckled. "Or like a tampon."

Eddie sobbed softly. "Please don't." He whimpered. This was so embarrassing, almost worse than what Patrick had done, because it was slow, painstaking... Mr. Salinger was poking, prodding, staring, seeing every inch of him, lingering on that one very private, very intimate place... And he was laughing about it. Eddie was completely humiliated, betrayed, hurt, terrified... and Mr. Salinger thought it was funny.

"I won't." Mr. Salinger laughed. "I don't have any fucking tampons, and I'm not about to shove my finger up your ass, whether there's a kleenex over it or not. I'm not a fucking pervert, Edward. Don't think I enjoy this. You're the one letting bigger kids force their dicks up your ass. This is the last thing I wanted to wake up and have to do."

"Th-then stop... P-please..." Eddie breathed, tears choking up out of his throat.

"I have to make sure you're not hurt, Ed. Do you get that?" Mr. Salinger grumbled, still spreading Eddie's cheeks and prodding humiliatingly around down below. "This isn't something I'm into. I don't like doing this, feeling around, opening a fucking asshole with my fingers, having to make sure some nasty kid's dick didn't tear it. I'm not a pervert, Edward. I just have to make sure you didn't let this kid destroy you down here." He laughed slightly.

Eddie sniffed softly. He sure was taking a long time to do this... If he wasn't a pervert, maybe he could have insisted that Eddie go to a doctor instead. Not that Eddie wanted to do that... Just... Mr. Salinger even specifically admitted that he didn't know what he was doing. What was the point of this? He wasn't going to get a definite answer on whether or not Eddie was hurt. Not without a trained doctor checking. This was worthless.

Maybe he just wanted to embarrass Eddie. Maybe that was the whole point - so Eddie would know that letting Patrick do what he did would mean even further embarrassment for Eddie afterward. Maybe this was his punishment.

"Can't even tell he did anything." Mr. Salinger noted, finally letting go and patting Eddie lightly on his back.

Eddie remained where he was, bent over, shaking, completely terrified that Mr. Salinger might still hurt him if he so much as moved.

"I want you to promise me you're not gonna let anything like this happen again." Mr. Salinger spoke as he grabbed Eddie's arms and pulled him back up, wrapping the towel back around him.

Eddie held the towel up with shaking hands, staring nervously up at Mr. Salinger. "Okay." He breathed, even though he knew it wasn't really up to him. If Patrick wanted to hurt him, he was going to... and he probably really, really wanted to hurt him after this.

"I mean it. I don't want to have to be the bad guy here... I don't want to have to call your social worker and tell her you're doing this nasty shit." Mr. Salinger threatened. "If you promise not to let him do this again, I won't call her."

"Okay..." Eddie breathed.

"Good boy." He clapped Eddie on the shoulder and forced an insincere smile. "Richard!" Mr. Salinger suddenly yelled, making Eddie flinch.

Eddie heard footfalls, but not from upstairs. It sounded like they were just in the hallway, like Richie had been waiting at the bottom of the stairs rather than up in their room. Maybe he had followed them down here. Maybe he was waiting nearby in the hallway, wanting to make sure Eddie was alright...

Eddie hoped he hadn't seen or heard anything Mr. Salinger just did. It was so fucking humiliating. Eddie looked down at the floor as Richie opened the door. "Yeah? You okay, Eds?" The other boy immediately asked. He sounded kind of out of breath.

Eddie nodded quickly, but refused to look up. He couldn't make eye-contact with Richie right now. He couldn't bring himself to speak. He didn't want to see or talk to anyone. He just wanted to go hide. Eddie felt his breaths picking up speed again. He was starting to feel extremely overwhelmed. He needed to be alone for a minute.

"Take him back up to your room... And try to keep an eye on him, Richard." Mr. Salinger ordered. "Can't have you boys turning this house into a god damn orgy."

Eddie kept looking down, but felt Richie's hands on his arms, pulling him protectively up against his chest. "Patrick was raping him." Richie growled, putting one and on Eddie's back and the other on the back of his head, holding him close. "You need to keep an eye on Patrick. Eddie didn't do anything wrong."

"You kids gotta tell me if shit like this happens." Salinger shrugged. "I can't read your minds... If you don't want to have sex with the other boys, don't let 'em take you into the shower with 'em. Go to bed. It's well past nine-thirty."

Eddie felt Richie exhale angrily as he pulled the smaller boy along out into the hallway.

"I fucking hate him." Richie growled. Eddie wasn't sure if he was talking about Patrick, Mr. Salinger, Henry, or maybe all three... But regardless, Eddie agreed. He hated them too.

**xxxxxx**


	12. Chapter 12

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 12**

**xxxxxx**

Richie's heart pounded in his chest as he led Eddie back toward their room. He couldn't fucking believe this was happening. He couldn't believe Mr. Salinger just walked in on Patrick pretty much raping Eddie right in front of him, and was still blaming Eddie for it.

Eddie was shaking uncontrollably under Richie's hands. He was still slightly wet from the shower, mostly from his hair dripping down. He wore only the same towel Mr. Salinger had wrapped hastily around him before. The house was pretty cold at night, so naturally Eddie must have been freezing.

"Are you okay?" Richie breathed, pulling Eddie close as they made their way up the stairs and into the upstairs hallway.

Eddie didn't answer. His breaths were shaking. Quiet tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Did Mr. Salinger hurt you?" Richie whispered.

Eddie shook his head no, but didn't elaborate. Whatever Mr. Salinger had said or done hadn't done Eddie any good. If anything, he seemed even more upset now than right after he had gotten away from Patrick. Mr. Salinger should have been comforting, should have gotten Eddie warm clothes, taken him to the hospital, promised him he was safe... But he hadn't. Whatever he had said or done had Eddie shaking even worse, refusing to speak, crying breathlessly.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Richie led Eddie into the bedroom, making sure the smaller boy made it to the bed before turning back and closing and locking the bedroom door. Maybe Mr. Salinger wouldn't like it if he came by to check in on them, but he'd just have to fucking knock.

Richie frowned when he turned around only to see Eddie heading for the closet, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. He could hear Eddie sobbing on the other side. He clearly needed to be alone for a moment.

Closing his eyes and exhaling, Richie sat down on his bed, watching the closet door, listening to Eddie's cries. He wanted to open the door, to ask Eddie if he was okay, to make the smaller boy tell him everything, to look him over and make sure he wasn't hurt... But if Eddie wanted Richie's help right now, he wouldn't have hidden himself. He needed a minute to himself, and Richie didn't want to force him to talk.

All day Richie had been wondering what it was Patrick had whispered to Eddie while they were walking to school. It had probably been a threat to do exactly what he'd been doing tonight. Poor Eddie very likely knew this was coming. He'd probably been worried about it all day.

Richie frowned and stared at the closet door, wondering at what point he should stand up, go knock, and ask Eddie to please come out. He wanted to give the smaller boy some space, time to cry if he needed it... He also wanted to be supportive. He wanted Eddie to know Richie was someone he could talk to if he wanted to. He wasn't like Mr. Salinger. He wasn't going to blame Eddie or be mad.

When Richie had woken up and found that Eddie wasn't in his bed, he had been worried immediately. Just seeing what he saw the first night after Richie moved in ere was enough for Richie to suspect Patrick was up to something. So he started walking the halls looking for the smaller boy. If Patrick was hurting him somewhere, Richie didn't want to just go back to sleep. He had to find him.

He headed toward the bathroom when he heard the shower running, had knocked, and heard Patrick's voice. He wasn't sure whether to persist at that point or not. Patrick could have easily been alone. Maybe Eddie had gone downstairs for a drink or a snack... But then Richie heard Eddie's terrified voice, and he couldn't just not do anything.

Richie had kind of freaked out. He started off just pounding on the door, trying the door knob... Eventually he was full-beating on the door, screaming, demanding to be let in. He couldn't stand the thought of Patrick hurting Eddie in there, with Richie right outside, doing nothing to stop it.

All of the commotion woke up the whole house, and Mr. Salinger had a spare key. Richie had honestly expected the man to see what was happening, call the police, and have Patrick arrested immediately. But he hadn't. He treated both Eddie and Patrick like they were equally wrong - and not even in that big of a way. Richie would have expected the same reaction if the man had caught them stealing sodas from a gas station. Like he was mad, disappointed... but that it wasn't that serious, that he didn't need to call the police or take Eddie to the hospital.

Richie exhaled and shook his head. "I'm right out here if you need anything, Eds. I locked the door. No one's getting in unless I let them."

Eddie continued crying softly, not offering Richie an answer.

"I didn't mean for Mr. Salinger to find out... I wasn't trying to tell him or anything... He just heard me... I guess I was loud." Richie explained. "I'm really sorry..."

After a moment, Eddie's sobs died down into soft sniffles. Richie stood up and walked over to their shared dresser, opening up Eddie's drawer and finding some boxer shorts, a shirt, and socks.

"Got you some clothes, Eds." Richie commented as he knocked lightly on the closet door. "I'll leave 'em right here outside the door." He noted, placing the clothing on the floor in front of the closet, then walking back to the bed and sitting down, watching the door.

After a moment, the door opened very slightly. Eddie's small hand reached out, pulled the clothes back in, and the door closed again. It took another couple minutes before Eddie finally opened the door and emerged.

"You okay?" Richie whispered, scooting over on his bed. "Wanna sit down?"

Eddie nodded, sniffing back tears and sitting next to Richie, but keeping a couple feet of space between them.

"Are you hurt?" Richie wondered. He wasn't sure how far Patrick had gotten. Eddie was so tiny. Patrick was pretty big. If he did too much, Eddie would probably have internal injuries. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" Richie whispered. "If Mr. Salinger won't take you, and you need to go, I'll go with you. We can sneak out. Go to the police and everything. You shouldn't have to fucking put up with this."

Eddie shook his head no.

"You sure?" Richie frowned.

Eddie shook his head again. "He barely did it." He whispered.

Richie's eyes were wide as he stared back at Eddie, who was still looking down at the floor. He wondered what exactly Patrick had done, how far he got... whether Eddie was truly okay or not. He didn't want to ask for graphic details, but he did hope Eddie wasn't lying when he said he didn't need medical attention.

"If you want to go to the hospital, or the cops... Or call your social worker or-" Richie started.

"No." Eddie interrupted, staring at Richie with a frown. "I can't tell anyone. Things will get worse."

"They might not." Richie pouted. "If you tell enough people, you're bound to tell the right one eventually."

Eddie shook his head. "There is no right one. Everyone in the world fucking sucks."

Richie exhaled. It certainly felt way sometimes... and Richie couldn't even promise with confidence that Eddie was wrong. Telling people truly might not do him a damn bit of good. "If you do change your mind, I'll go with you. I think I've seen enough that I'd be a useful witness, and I'll definitely speak up on your behalf. I'll go with you to the hospital, testify in court. Whatever has to be done."

Eddie laughed a soft, dry laugh. "I'm not doing any of that. I just wanna leave. I just want to be somewhere where I can feel fucking safe for once. Is that too much to ask?" His eyes shined with tears as he stared at Richie. "Am I asking for a miracle? I just wanna feel safe."

Richie shook his head and frowned. "It's not too much." He answered, moving his arm out so that Eddie could lean against him. He hugged the smaller boy against his side, glad that Eddie was allowing him to do so. "We can try to work on that, Eds. There's got to be some place in the world for us. Some place better than this and everywhere else we've been. We just have to find it. There's good people still left in the world. I know it doesn't seem like it-"

"You're a good person, Richie." Eddie whispered. "Problem is you're as trapped as I am. You're a kid too. You want to help, but there's a lot of ways you just can't."

Richie smiled slightly. Just two days earlier when they first met, Eddie wanted nothing to do with him. He acted like it would take him a lifetime to learn to trust another human being... But it hadn't taken long at all for him to start to trust Richie. Now he was accusing Richie of being a good person, letting him hug him.

"Do you-" Eddie started, snapping his mouth back closed and sniffing as he shook his head slightly. "Never mind..." He whispered.

"What?" Richie frowned. "What is it, Eds?"

Eddie shook his head again. "It's just... Do you think, maybe... Do you wanna run away?" Eddie turned and looked at the older boy. "I sometimes think about just leaving. Seeing how far I can get. Sleeping at libraries and subway stations and on park benches. We could go to the train station, ask people for spare change until we have enough to go somewhere really far away, a whole different state. We'll change our names so no one knows who we really are and they can't make us go back. There's trains that run late, and that go really far. If we get enough money, we could get on one and sleep while it drives. We could sleep for a long time, and no one's gonna hurt us on a train. They can't. There'd be too many people around. Would you come with me?"

Richie inhaled a small breath. Would he? Should they run away? He hadn't really thought about it... On the one hand, it made more sense to him to just call the police, or talk to his social worker... but that process might be really slow, and potentially useless, and Eddie was in danger now. Eddie needed out of here immediately.

"Never mind... Forget I said it." Eddie shook his head and laughed nervously.

"No, you're right." Richie spoke back up. "We should leave..."

"Really?" Eddie's eyes lit up. "We could go to the train station right now. There might not be that many people out... But we can try. And just hang out until we get enough money. I've gotten people to give me money in the past just by looking pathetic. I'm sure I can manage to do it again."

"We can do something like that... But how about tomorrow after school? Then we can look around for money, see if we can take some food with us, try to plan better where to go." Richie suggested. Going now, in the middle of the night, with no money or food sounded really needlessly reckless.

Eddie frowned and looked down. "Okay." He breathed. He looked and sounded so disappointed.

"We'll go, Eds... I'm not gonna let him hurt you again... I just don't think leaving right now is the best idea. I don't want to move too fast and end up screwing up. If we leave right now, we'll just be lost, hungry, unable to afford anything. Wait until tomorrow, after school and we'll have a bit of daylight. We'll have more supplies, hopefully some money..."

Eddie still stared at the floor, but didn't argue.

"We're gonna figure it out, Eds." Richie promised. "Whatever we do, it's gonna get better. We're not staying here if Mr. Salinger allows Patrick to hurt you and then blames you for it. We'll get the fuck out."

Eddie leaned more heavily against Richie. He was shaking still, probably cold, definitely still scared.

"Is it okay if we get under the blankets?" Richie whispered. "You're shivering."

Eddie nodded silently and let Richie pull the blankets back. They both climbed under and Richie cautiously wrapped his arms around Eddie, pulling the smaller boy close against his chest.

"It's fucking freezing in here." Richie noted, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's arms. "You'd think he could turn up the damn heat."

Richie frowned when he realized Eddie was really still, really stiff in his arms. Richie leaned back slightly, furrowing his brows as he stared down at the smaller boy. "Is this okay?" He asked.

Eddie swallowed, hesitating for a moment. "I think so..." He whispered.

Richie blinked. "You can go back to your bed... If you're not comfortable sharing mine..."

"No, it's just..." Eddie looked down. "I think it's okay."

"Alright... I wouldn't ever try anything. You know that, right? I'm not gonna try to hurt you." Richie promised.

"I know." Eddie's voice was small.

"Okay. Just... You're shivering, and I know you were really scared when Patrick was hurting you. I'm trying to be supportive... It's warmer with two people under the blankets. And if anyone comes in, you can wake me up faster if we're together. I don't want to make anything worse... I promise I won't try to do anything." Richie bit his lower lip. "Just tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable."

"It's okay." Eddie whispered, snuggling close against Richie's chest.

Richie frowned and looked down at his tiny friend, feeling a twisting feeling in his chest. He barely knew Eddie, but for some reason he felt so fucking protective of him. He never wanted this boy to feel another second of pain or fear or betrayal in his life. He wanted to save him.

"Thanks for checking on me." Eddie's voice was so small Richie could barely hear it. "He would have really hurt me bad if you didn't."

"I guess I woke up Henry and Mr. Salinger while I was pounding on the door and yelling... Mr. Salinger had the key to the door. I know he was a bastard once he got in, but he kinda saved you." Richie noted.

"No." Eddie shook his head. "You did."

Richie smiled slightly, pulling Eddie closer and closing his eyes. He didn't know if he'd truly run away with Eddie, or if he'd talk to his social worker, or the police, or maybe a teacher if any of them seemed trustworthy. He didn't know what he was going to do... But he did know he had to do something. He couldn't let this precious person snuggled up against him be hurt any longer. Eddie deserved so much better.

**xxxxxx**


	13. Chapter 13

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 13**

**xxxxxx**

Eddie waited until he was sure Richie was asleep before carefully climbing out of the other boy's bed. According to the clock on the wall, it was two o'clock in the morning. Mr. Salinger never did come back in to check on him or ask any more questions. He had made up his mind that Eddie was a gross little pervert, that he was somehow leading Patrick on... Even though Eddie told him exactly what happened, Mr. Salinger had no sympathy for him.

Frowning, Eddie walked as quietly as he could over to the closet, where Richie's back pack was hung up on the door knob. He picked it up and headed toward the dresser, opening his own drawer first and stuffing a few articles of clothing into the back pack.

He knew Richie said he'd run away with him too, if he only just waited, but Eddie didn't want to wait. What if Patrick did something to him in the meantime? What if Henry did too? They were probably really mad now - especially Patrick. Patrick had been caught in the act, and whether Mr. Salinger got it part-way wrong and blamed Eddie too or not, Patrick was still facing heat over it. What if he and Henry hurt him together next time? They'd probably hurt him really bad. Maybe they'd even kill him. For all Eddie knew, they were planning something right now. Maybe they'd come in here tonight, even with Richie here.

Maybe Mr. Salinger would start hurting him too. He seemed really angry when he caught Patrick hurting Eddie - and he wasn't just mad at Patrick. He blamed Eddie too. His terrifying physical exam of Eddie lingered in the boy's mind too. Was he really just checking to see if Eddie was hurt? Maybe he was checking how much he could get away with before Eddie fought back... Eddie hadn't fought back. He didn't scream or push Mr. Salinger away. Now the man knew he could do something like that without Eddie stopping him.

Maybe Mr. Salinger would want to punish him for all this in the morning. Eddie wasn't sure what sort of punishments the man might have in mind. He didn't know the guy well enough. Mr Salinger might beat him, or make him stand outside in the cold without clothes, or do something really awful - like Patrick did. Eddie could picture that - Mr. Salinger would mock him, telling him if he liked doing that kind of thing so much, he could do it with him too. Maybe Mr. Salinger wouldn't ever do something like that... But maybe he would... Eddie had to get out of here before he found out.

Breathing in a shaking breath, Eddie pulled on some jeans, strapped his fanny pack around his waist, and glanced back toward Richie, who slept soundly on the bed. He felt kind of bad leaving him here.. He really appreciated all of Richie's help... But he couldn't afford to wait. And Richie deserved better than following Eddie out into the cold unknown anyway. Eddie was the one who was a magnet to danger and misfortune. Eddie had to leave and go be homeless and hungry to avoid being raped or otherwise abused. Richie didn't have to resort to that. This was Eddie's problem.

Glancing back down into the drawer, Eddie spotted Richie's jacket. It looked warm. Eddie didn't have a jacket... He looked back over at Richie again, snuggled under his blankets, looking peaceful and cozy. It would be wrong to steal his jacket... But Eddie was cold already, and it was even colder outside.

Even though he felt kind of guilty about it, Eddie took the jacket and slid his arms into it. It was over-sized on him, warm, cozy, and it smelled like Richie - like safety.

Eddie smiled slightly, pulling the backpack up over his arms and shoulders and walking over to the window, sliding it carefully and quietly up. He leaned out the window, looking down. A tree nearby would be his way down to the ground. Looking back at Richie one last time, Eddie turned and climbed out the window and down the tree.

Exhaling a shaking breath, Eddie headed down the sidewalk, toward the train station. He hoped this plan worked. He was really running out of options.

As he got closer and closer to the station, Eddie took note of a playground he was walking past. He used to play there a lot as a younger child. His first foster-home was pretty close, and he often avoided going home if he could. He'd go to this park instead. There was a twisty slide with a somewhat enclosed top. He used to hide up there as it got dark, imagining that the playground equipment - and particularly the slide - was his kingdom. It even looked kind of like a castle.

Eddie had imagined that he was a prince, living safely and securely in the castle with his mom and dad, the queen and king. His imaginary royal parents were kind, warm, protective. They always kept him safe in his mind. Prince Eddie was never scared. And he didn't have asthma. He was strong and brave and no one ever hurt him.

He smiled as he passed the part of the playground where his slide was. For along time, that was his safe place - one of the only spots in the world where he felt like no one could hurt him. He almost wanted to climb up there and hide right now. But he didn't have time to get sentimental. He needed to get to the station, to start begging people for money... to get the hell out of here. A slide wouldn't save him. Money and a train out of this nightmare would.

So he stuffed his hands in the pockets of Richie's jacket and kept going.

It didn't take long to reach the train station, and as Eddie guessed, hardly anyone was there. It was around two o'clock in the morning after all. Most trains didn't run after midnight, and this wasn't that big of a town. If a train did stop, probably hardly anyone would be getting on or off here.

Eddie forced a small smile for a young-looking woman wearing a big, fuzzy coat as she walked rather briskly toward the station door. The coat looked new. Clean, pearly white, and new. "Do you have a couple dollars to spare?" Eddie asked as she was passing, wondering if she'd even respond or would just keep walking. He felt kind of weird asking strangers for money, but he had to.

"Um..." She frowned as she stopped walking for a second, feeling around in her pockets. "Nope... Sorry. I got some change." She shrugged, holding out a gloved fist. Her gloves looked pretty and new too.

"Thanks." Eddie smiled as he reached out and let her drop the coins into his palm. That was easier than he'd guessed it would be. The very first person he asked was giving him money. Maybe he'd do okay out in the world after all.

"No problem. Good luck, kid." She smiled sort of sadly and walked on.

Eddie looked down at his hand, at the small pile of coins she'd given him. He quickly counted it. Eighty two cents. That was a start. He shoved the money into his pocket and walked up to the next person, who honestly looked homeless... He wondered if he should even ask this one...

"Hey." The guy spoke up before Eddie could. "You got any money?"

"No." Eddie shook his head. "I was gonna ask you that." He laughed nervously.

The man narrowed his eyes, looking Eddie up and down, then pulling his hood down lower to cover his eyes and wrapping his arms around himself. He looked like he felt pretty cold. But the heat in the building was on - not high... but it was warmer in here than it was outside.

Eddie shrugged slightly and walked on, noticing a metal box that said it contained free reading material. He bent down in front of it and looked inside. A lot of it was religious pamphlets and the really boring kinds of magazines. There were a few old, worn romance books in there too. Nothing he was interested in. Nothing he could get any money for. No one was going to pay for that kind of thing.

Eddie frowned and moved on. There was one more guy further down, near a hallway that led to the bathrooms. He looked fairly well-dressed. Maybe he was going to an important work meeting, one that was really early, in another state, so he had to leave so early it was practically still the day before.

"Excuse me, Sir." Eddie spoke up as he walked toward the man.

The man smiled down at him. "Hey." He looked way too happy to see Eddie - almost like he thought he knew him already. "You alright, kiddo? You're out awfully late all by yourself..."

Eddie shrugged slightly. "I need some money for a train ticket... You wouldn't happen to have a few dollars to spare would you?" He asked, feeling anxiety building in his chest. He really didn't like having to do this, and asking the men was a little more nerve-wracking than asking the young woman had been. In Eddie's experience, men were more likely to hurt him than women were, though he did have a pretty rough foster-mom once who always grabbed him too hard and pinched him pretty hard any time he said something she didn't like.

"Well... Let me see... We might be able to work something out..." The guy noted, feeling around his pockets for his wallet. He opened it up and looked inside, flipping through what Eddie guessed were various bills. He seemed to have a lot of money... and Eddie by no means felt like he was owed any of it... but he did have a lot. Giving Eddie five or ten dollars would probably be like nothing to this guy.

Eddie licked his lips as he watched the man's fingers go through his wallet. He could just reach up, grab it, and run. Eddie wasn't the fastest runner in the world, but maybe he could out-run this guy... Then he could take the bus instead of the train, and take the train in a different town.

"You alright?" The man frowned as he focused back on Eddie's face. "You're out here all alone, at two thirty in the morning... Something happen? Why do you need money? Where's your parents?"

"I-" Eddie hesitated. "I don't have parents..." He grimaced, hoping he shouldn't have kept that information to himself.

"Really..." The guy narrowed his eyes and nodded. "Are you hungry? I could buy you something... and then give you maybe forty dollars to get you a good start on your way wherever you're going..."

Eddie felt a smile tug at his lips, but he didn't want to look too excited too fast. There was always a catch... Forty dollars and some food sounded awesome, but he didn't have it yet. He couldn't get excited until he was safely on his way.

"Come back here with me and we'll work something out." The man smiled, putting his hand on Eddie's shoulder and leading him toward the bathrooms.

Eddie felt a breath catch in his throat as he shook his head. There were very few reasons this man might want to take Eddie back here alone to work out some sort of deal... None of those possible reasons were anything good. "N-never mind..." He whispered, pulling his arm back and trying to take a step away.

"Now, come on, Hun. You need the money. I need things too. We can help each other." The guy frowned, grabbing Eddie's arm and pulling him back harder.

Eddie's lip trembled. "No!" He breathed, trying to pull his arm back as the stranger dragged him down the hall, toward the men's bathroom.

"I'm not asking. You do it for the money, or you do it for free." The man growled, pushing the bathroom door open and trying to drag Eddie inside.

"Stop!" Eddie cried, reaching his hand up toward the man's fingers, trying to pry them off of his arm. He didn't even know for sure what the guy wanted. He just knew it wasn't anything good - it had to be something very similar to the very thing he was running away from.

"Get in here." The man breathed, grabbing both of Eddie's arms in large, bruising hands. "I won't hurt you if you just cooperate."

Eddie let out a choked sob. This was all too familiar. "Please don't!" Eddie cried. He had run away to avoid this kind of thing. It was painfully ironic that this was what he'd run into, first thing after trying to flee from Patrick's abusive hands.

"Hey, let him go!" Richie's voice suddenly called out from somewhere behind him.

Eddie let out a small breath as he turned toward the sound of the other boy's voice. "Richie?" He breathed, not sure if he was hallucinating. How the hell was Richie here right now? Eddie was so quiet when he sneaked out... Richie was asleep when he left... How did Richie find him? How did he know where to go? Eddie had been gone like fifteen minutes, and it took five or ten minutes just to walk here.

The guy must not have had faith in himself enough to try to force Eddie to do whatever he was about to do with Richie there too, because he quickly let go of Eddie's arms, shoved him back rather hard, and took off.

Eddie's back hit the wall pretty hard. He choked out a pained whimper and slid down to the floor, raising his knees up to his chest and letting out a small sob. Why was he so fucking weak, so fucking unlucky? He couldn't even do something as simple as speak to three different people at a train station before one of them grabbed him and tried to molest him.

"You okay, Eds?" Richie's hand was on Eddie's arm as the boy squatted down next to him. "Did he hurt you?"

Eddie breathed shaky breaths, looking up at Richie with confusion. "I'm okay. How did you know I was here? How did you find me?" He whispered.

"You told me. You said you'd go to the train station. I woke up because it was so fucking cold, because you left the window open... I notice you stole my jacket and back pack too..." He added with a small smirk.

"I'm sorry..." Eddie frowned, looking down. He felt like a jerk. "You can have 'em back." He took the backpack off and started shrugging out of the jacket.

"No. Keep it." Richie shook his head, pulling his jacket further up Eddie's arms. "You can have it. Look. I got a really warm hoodie." He gestured down at himself. "I don't need it."

Eddie frowned as he looked at Richie's sweatshirt. The hoodie couldn't be as warm as the jacket. Richie was probably cold. Eddie was, even with the jacket. "I shouldn't have stolen it, Richie... I'm sorry..." He said again.

"It's okay. I told you you could borrow it any time, remember?" Richie nodded, smiling gently, rubbing Eddie's arm. "Besides, sometimes you gotta steal shit. I get it. I stole this fuckin' hoodie from one of my foster brothers... You gotta do what you gotta do... It's alright. I'm not mad... I just noticed it was gone, and figured you went here, like you said you would... I would have given you the jacket anyway, Eds, so don't worry."

"Really?" Eddie blinked.

"Yeah. I noticed you didn't have one... I'd have given you that, or this." He gestured down at his hoodie. "I'm not a monster, Eddie Spaghetti. I wouldn't have made you run away with me without a jacket. It's fuckin' freezing out here."

"Thanks." Eddie whispered, blinking back tears.

He hardly knew what it felt like to have someone care about him anymore, but what Richie was saying and doing certainly felt like care. The other boy kept helping him, comforting him, being supportive... and he didn't even seem to want anything back. He never tried to take Eddie's clothes off or hold him down and do anything to him. He never let his hands wander where they weren't welcome. Not even when they shared a bed and it would have been easy for Richie to slowly work up to it. Richie's touch was safe and comforting. Hugs, reassuring hands on his arms or back. Never anything bad.

Eddie blinked as he stared silently at the other boy. Richie had had a lot of chances to be aggressive and violent, and while he was closer to an even match for Eddie, he was bigger, and if he tried hard, he probably could have forced Eddie to do things like Patrick did. It wouldn't have been as easy as it was for Patrick, but not impossible.

They shared a room. Richie could have had all night to do something without it even looking like anything from the outside. He knew how weak Eddie was. He came in that first night and Eddie's pants were still down, he was having trouble breathing, completely panicked. Richie definitely could have overpowered him then. And tonight, when Mr. Salinger shoved Eddie at him, and Eddie was just wrapped in a towel, panicking again, practically passing out. Richie could have taken advantage of that... But he didn't. Mr. Salinger pretty much passed Eddie off on him, and Eddie was almost naked, panicking, barely managing to keep breathing. Richie could have taken him back to their room, pushed him down onto the bed, and done whatever he wanted. He let Eddie go hide in the closet instead, didn't demand that he come out. Didn't make him come out to find clothes and get dressed out in the open.

Richie asked questions about whether or not Eddie was hurt, but didn't demand to see. He didn't force Eddie to show him bruises or insist on an embarrassing physical examination. Eddie couldn't understand why Richie was so kind to him. Even after Eddie was purposefully mean at first, Richie didn't give up on him. He was here now, running away with him even though Eddie was the one with the issue. Richie could have stayed at the house, with a warm-ish bed, with food, a bathroom...

Richie smiled gently, reaching over and pulling the collar on his jacket more snugly around Eddie's shoulders. "You okay now?" He asked.

Eddie nodded, sniffing back his unshed tears. He did actually feel okay now. He felt almost safe with Richie here next to him. The world was dangerous, but he did have faith that Richie would protect him as best as he could.

Eddie closed his eyes and exhaled, leaning his head back against the wall. "I'm glad you came after me, Richie... I don't know what that guy was gonna do..." He trailed off. He did know. He had some pretty good guesses at least.

"Well, I had to... I didn't want you out here on your own. It's a scary world. You know that... But I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow, Eddie Spaghetti... Why the rush?" Richie frowned, sitting down next to Eddie and pulling him into a half-hug.

"I was scared waiting was a mistake... I was scared Patrick or Henry or Mr. Salinger would do something." Eddie whispered. "Don't make me go back, Richie. I can't."

"I won't." Richie whispered.

"What are we gonna do, Richie?" Eddie whispered. "I got eighty two cents from one lady... Second guy was homeless. Third one was a rapist or something... I just... Richie..." He inhaled a shaky breath, feeling his chest growing tight. "I don't know what to do... There's no way out of this..."

"Yes there is... We're gonna figure it out." Richie promised. "Let's just sit here for a while... The building's heated at least... We'll just stay here for now. Decide what to do... We'll be fine."

Eddie breathed in and out, shaking breaths, but nodded. He felt really trapped right now... But at least for once he wasn't alone.

**xxxxxx**


	14. Chapter 14

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 14**

**xxxxxx**

"I'm sorry, but you boys can't be in here. It's three o' clock in the morning. There's a curfew for kids your age..." A policeman grumbled as he paced through the train station, kicking everyone out. "Unless you have a train ticket. You going somewhere? Next train's not until five thirty."

Richie swallowed, hugging his arm around Eddie's shoulders. "We have tickets." He lied.

"Can I see 'em?" The officer held his hand down.

Richie exhaled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Why couldn't they just stay here? What harm did it do?

The police man frowned. "You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. Come on, Eds." Richie grumbled, standing up and pulling Eddie along with him.

"Well, hold up, son. Are you boys in some kind of trouble? Where are your parents?" The officer asked.

"At home. We'll go." Richie breathed, hugging Eddie against his side. He noticed the smaller boy was completely silent. Maybe he was scared of the police. They could certainly complicate things sometimes.

"Where do you kids live?" The policeman asked. "I'll make sure you get there safe. I can give you a ride."

Richie felt Eddie silently grip his hand and hide himself slightly behind the taller boy.

"It's okay. We'll walk. It's close." Richie lied, squeezing Eddie's hand.

"Why are you two out here so late?" The cop frowned, taking a step forward.

"Richie, can we run?" Eddie whispered.

"What was that?" The officer leaned to the side to see Eddie better.

"Richie, run!" Eddie suddenly shouted, grabbing Richie's hand tighter and taking off.

Richie had no choice but to follow. He hadn't planned on running from the police, but he guessed that's what they were doing. It was a little late to do anything else at this point.

Richie looked back over his shoulder as they ran. The cop followed for a second, shouting after them to slow down, to wait... but Eddie was actually pretty fast, and the cop was overweight and ran slow. They lost him within a couple blocks.

"Eds, he's gone..." Richie noted as Eddie kept running, turning down various alleys and streets like he knew where he was going. "Eddie, he's gone. You can stop..." Richie said again when Eddie made no move to slow down. "Eddie." Richie said louder, finally stopping himself, holding Eddie's hand tight, and reaching up toward the smaller boy's other arm, forcing him to stop. "He's gone... Where are we going?"

Eddie breathed in and out quick, shaking breaths as he looked around behind himself. His eyes were wide. He looked really scared.

"I don't think he was gonna do anything, Eds..." Richie frowned.

"He's gone?" Eddie breathed, blinking tiredly and swallowing. His breaths sounded pretty shallow, kind of painful.

"Yeah... He's gone. You okay? Do you need your inhaler?" Richie frowned.

Eddie swallowed and nodded. "Maybe..." He whispered, feeling around in the weird-looking fanny pack thing he always wore around his waist and grabbing his inhaler. He took a puff, then coughed softly and put the inhaler back. "I know where we can go until it gets light out."

"Okay..." Richie frowned. He followed silently as Eddie led him to a park with a playground. Eddie climbed up onto the ladder of part of the playground equipment as Richie stayed down below, looking up with a confused smirk. "Um... Are we like... Just gonna play for a bit or what?" He laughed. "I mean, I guess we're still technically kids... You know the cops are gonna kick us out if they see us."

"They won't see us. Come on." Eddie reached down and grabbed Richie's hand, helping him climb up after him. "I used to come here when I was little. This slide here is roomy at the top, and the sides block the wind." He noted, leading the way over to a slide with a sort of closed off castle-looking top.

Richie smiled slightly. "You came here when you were little?" He asked, climbing into the space and sitting down, stretching his arm out, offering Eddie a spot right next to him.

Eddie nodded. "When I didn't wanna go home." He elaborated.

Richie frowned, thinking of all the reasons Eddie might not have wanted to go home, whether he was in foster-care yet at that point or not. He said his mom made him sick on purpose. He wondered when Eddie realized that about her. Did he know she was doing it at the time? Did he continue taking the pills because he was scared of her? Or did he really think he was sick?

"I know the cop probably wasn't gonna hurt us." Eddie spoke up. "I mean, he might have. Cops do hurt people sometimes... But I wasn't like scared of him..."

Richie glanced over at Eddie with raised eyebrows. He certainly seemed scared of the cop. He hid behind Richie the whole time, refused to speak, and then took off running from the guy.

"He was asking so many questions..." Eddie frowned. "He was gonna make us go back. I can't go back there, Richie. Ever."

Richie nodded. "Okay." He whispered. He didn't expect Eddie to go back. He didn't want to go back either, really. Henry was violent, Patrick was a creep, and Mr. Salinger just didn't care. Richie wanted to stay with Eddie, make sure he was okay... and he certainly didn't want to become Patrick's next target. The group home was bullshit, and he wasn't going to back either.

Eddie leaned his head against Richie's shoulder. Richie could feel the smaller boy's soft hair tickling his neck and jaw. He hugged him tighter, hoping the gesture was keeping him warm. Richie was pretty cold right now himself.

"I'm sorry I was mean before." Eddie whispered.

"It's okay. You were scared." Richie frowned. "I'm not mad. I knew you didn't mean it."

Eddie laughed softly, snuggling closer to Richie. "I thought before, that I wasn't gonna ever trust anybody. I thought I had a wall up, that I couldn't trust anyone, that I wouldn't... But that's not true... I was trusting everybody way too fast, way too easy. I wanted to trust people so fucking bad. I knew it was dangerous. I knew I should be careful and not let anyone in... But I wasn't being smart. I trusted Patrick way too fast."

"That's not your fault..." Richie swallowed nervously, hoping not to say the wrong thing. Eddie had trusted Richie pretty fucking fast too. It was obvious the smaller boy was desperate for a friend, that he really, truly wanted to see the best in people, whether it scared him or not. "You should be able to trust people, Eddie... It's not your fault when someone breaks your trust."

"I know... But it was dumb to trust him so fast. I just met him..." Eddie stared ahead, still leaning against Richie's side. "He was nice at first. He's good at pretending..."

Richie nodded. Eddie had said something about that the first day Richie was there, when he was being bitter and trying his best to scare Richie off. He said something about not wanting people to pretend to be his friend. He was probably talking about Patrick.

"Henry came into my room the first night I was there... He hit me, really hard on my ribs. I kind of thought maybe he broke them. It really hurt." Eddie spoke in a tiny voice. "Patrick came in and stopped him, and said he'd look at me... make sure I wasn't hurt. I wasn't even gonna let him, but he said he'd tell Mr. Salinger that I was hurt if I didn't, and I didn't want to get him involved, so I let him lift my shirt..."

Richie swallowed, staring down at Eddie. The smaller boy moved his hand over toward Richie's leg, where Richie had rested his own hand. Richie reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"He didn't want to make sure I wasn't hurt, Richie. That's not what he was doing." Eddie whispered.

Richie nodded. "He can't hurt you anymore. We won't go back there. We can call our social workers. We can find a police officer..."

Eddie shook his head. "What if they don't listen? What if they make us go back?" He whispered.

"We won't. We'll refuse... Or we'll run away. We can try to fix it by telling someone, and if it doesn't work, running away can be our other option. We'll try first, Eds. There's people in the world who actually want to help." Richie promised. "We haven't found them yet, but they exist."

"Like you." Eddie whispered.

Richie smiled. "Yeah." He offered a small laugh. "And there's adults too. My social worker is actually pretty nice. She's kind of an air head, but she's nice. She'll believe us."

"Mine's okay, I guess." Eddie shrugged. "She might believe me. Mrs. Powell tries to be nice, but-"

"Mrs. Powell? She's my social worker too!" Richie laughed. "Do you wanna talk to her together? We can call her tomorrow... See if we can go someplace together... I had a foster-mom who kept hitting me with a broom handle once, and I told Mrs. Powell, and she did something about it right away."

"Really?" Eddie frowned. "She's only been my social worker for a year... I didn't know if I could trust her, so I never told her anything. Mr. Salinger said he was gonna call her and tell her about me and Patrick... but of course you know he's not gonna tell the truth. He's gonna say I wanted Patrick to do it, that I was being bad..."

"We can tell her. She'll help. She won't fucking believe you wanted Patrick to do that to you. Patrick's a huge, gross, piece of shit. There's no way she'll believe that was consensual. Besides, Patrick's eighteen. You're still a kid. He's not. She's a space head, but she'll see how serious this is, and she'll help." Richie promised. He actually was pretty sure he was telling the truth. When his foster-mom used to hit him on his legs when he didn't do his chores well enough, she left marks, and Richie only put up with it for about a week before calling Mrs. Powell. She came to the house that day, and Richie was removed immediately.

"Can I tell you first?" Eddie whispered.

"What?" Richie frowned. He already told him. Richie already knew what happened.

"She's gonna want to know everything. I never said any of it out loud... I mean... I think maybe you know... A lot of it was pretty obvious... But I never actually told you what happened. Can I tell you? So I won't be saying it all for the first time to her?" Eddie elaborated.

"Yeah." Richie blinked. He didn't think Eddie was ever going to tell him the whole truth. He figured a vague, unclear picture, assumptions and guesses were as good as he was going to get. "You can tell me anything, Eds." He agreed. "You can always tell me anything."

Eddie nodded and stared at the inside wall of the slide for a moment before inhaling and exhaling softly, leaning closer to Richie, and squeezing his hand tighter. "Patrick's been hurting me every night since I got here." He whispered. "I haven't been here that long, but he's done it every night. Well... Almost every night. You and me sticking together actually worked that time, but then the next night, tonight, he just waited until you were asleep and made me sneak out. And when I skipped class, it was because he made me, and he and Henry hurt me then too. Mostly Henry just beat me up that time, because I fought back. Th-they wanted me to..." Eddie cut himself off with a shaky breath.

"It's okay... Eds, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Richie whispered. He wanted to be supportive, and he actually did want to know what all Patrick and Henry had done... but he didn't want to force Eddie to talk if the smaller boy didn't want to.

"I want to tell you, Richie." Eddie breathed. "No one ever cared when I told them about this stuff in the past. I mean, hardly. Social workers kind of pretended to, but no one really, truly cared."

"I care." Richie spoke in a tiny voice.

"I know. That's why I want to tell you." Eddie whispered. "The day I skipped class, Patrick made me meet him by the football field. Henry was there too. They said I had to use my mouth... on them... I wouldn't do it... So they beat me up. Henry did mostly... Until I agreed to do it. But I threw up when Patrick did it, and I think it grossed him out, and Henry was laughing and it was making Patrick mad, so they left... but they warned me not to fight back again, or they'd kill me..."

Richie bit his lower lip. He could tell this story wasn't going to get any less horrible any time soon... He felt tears in his eyes as he hugged Eddie close. This was hard to hear, but he owed it to Eddie to listen. "I'm so sorry, Eds." He whispered. "I wish I could have done something sooner."

"It's okay..." Eddie whispered. "You didn't know. You weren't even here at first."

Richie laid his cheek down on Eddie's hair and closed his eyes.

"It started off less horrible... I mean, I was really scared the whole time, but he did get worse and worse each time. He just forced his hand down my pants the first night. After he pretended to want to make sure Henry didn't break my ribs, because Henry punched me really hard." Eddie went on. "And then he did kind of the same thing each night... Sometimes he made me touch him too. It didn't hurt that bad, but I didn't like it. It was scary and gross. It made me feel dirty. I didn't want him to touch me... I didn't want to touch him. But that's all he did at first. Just touching, making me touch him... That's all it was. Until the night you got here..."

Richie inhaled a slow breath. He had been wondering what exactly Patrick had been doing that first night he was at the group home. Eddie had been so quiet about it, but it was obvious whatever Patrick did was horrible. Eddie was crying so hard that night, unable to even breathe. His pants were down. He was lying on his stomach on the bed, pretty much sobbing...

"He made me kiss him first." Eddie whispered. "Then he turned me over and held me there so I couldn't move. He pulled my pants down and forced his thumb-" Eddie cut himself off with a tiny, shaking sob.

Richie exhaled, hugging Eddie close. "He's never gonna get another chance to fucking touch you, Eds. I promise."

"He kept doing it. Even when you were knocking on the door... I cried and begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. It hurt. I know it was just his thumb, and that's not that big, but it hurt. H-he said it was like... practice or something, for the real thing... And that was tonight. He made me go to the shower with him, and he was starting to do it when Mr. Salinger opened the door. He used his dick that time... and he was actually starting to do it... It really hurt." Eddie whispered. "I thought I was gonna pass out."

Richie swallowed a dry gulp. He had already guessed a lot of this... but even so, hearing it directly from Eddie was hard. "Are you sure you're okay, Eddie?" He whispered. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"I'm sure... Like I said, he barely did it. He started to, but he didn't get far. If Mr. Salinger waited another minute, then yeah..." He forced a dry laugh. "I probably would have gotten really hurt..."

Richie shook his head and closed his eyes.

"I'm not hurt. Mr. Salinger checked." Eddie noted in a tiny voice.

Richie frowned, looking down at Eddie with furrowed brows. "He checked?" What the fuck did that mean?

Eddie swallowed and nodded. "He made me take the towel off... When we went downstairs after, when he wouldn't let you come too. He looked at the bruises and made me bend over... t-to see if I was bleeding..." Eddie's lip trembled as tears welled up in his eyes. "I k-kinda thought maybe h-he was gonna do what Patrick did... But he didn't. His fingers were really close, and it was embarrassing..." Eddie shook his head. "He really did just check to see if I was hurt though. He didn't push his fingers in."

Exhaling a breath, Richie hugged Eddie tighter. "He's not a doctor. That's fucked up, Eddie. It's not his place to fucking touch you or look at you without clothes on. We're sticking together from now on. We'll tell Mrs. Powell it's the only way we're going anywhere - together. We'll demand it."

Eddie scoffed. "I don't think we have any say in it, Rich..." He frowned.

"Fuck yes we do." Richie disagreed. "We'll just flat out tell her. We'll run away, start fires at houses... Just be real pieces of shit unless we're kept together. I'm not fucking going anywhere without you. If no one else makes sure you're okay, I will."

Eddie smiled softly, hugging his arms around Richie's chest. "I'll make sure you're okay too. That lady shouldn't have hit you with a broom. I bet that hurt."

"Yeah." Richie laughed softly, hugging Eddie back securely. It was nothing compared to the horrors Eddie had faced.

"Did anyone else ever hurt you? I mean, like foster families and stuff?" Eddie whispered.

Richie shrugged. "One of the kids did. The people's real son. They really loved him. They didn't fucking like me." He forced another laugh. It wasn't funny. It actually hurt his feelings a lot to be treated like he was unwanted, like he didn't matter as much as their biological child.

"What did he do?" Eddie whispered.

Richie shrugged. "Just beat me up all the time. Shoved me, punched me. I told the mom and she didn't believe me. Even with bruises to prove it."

Eddie shook his head. "So many people just suck, Richie."

"Yeah... But we don't. We have each other now." Richie squeezed his arm around Eddie's shoulders.

"Thanks, Richie." Eddie whispered, settling down against Richie's side and exhaling a small breath. "I'm really glad we got put in the same place. Even with Patrick there too... just so we'd meet each other... Just so we'd finally each have a friend."

"I feel the same way, Eds." Richie agreed. "I don't think I've ever had a friend. Never had a brother worth a shit..."

"Are we kinda brothers now?" Eddie smiled, looking up at Richie.

"Yeah. I guess so... They have to keep us together in that case, right?" Richie laughed.

"Uh huh." Eddie nodded, snuggling back down, hugging Richie close.

Richie smiled, leaning back against the slide and closing his eyes. Even though it was cold out, and he should have been cold, he felt kind of warm here with Eddie. He felt kind of safe, like the top of this slide was a fortress no one could break through. He and Eddie had each other. They'd keep each other safe, keep each other warm. They'd stand up for and support each other...

Richie could see that Eddie was small, scared, not as strong as a lot of kids their age... But Eddie stood up for Richie more than anyone else ever had in his life. When Henry beat him up this morning, Eddie stood up to the bully, even knowing he'd probably be hurt for it. Eddie had to have been terrified, but he had Richie's back anyway.

"I think I feel safe now, Richie." Eddie whispered.

"You are safe, Eds. We both are." Richie smiled, feeling sleep edging at his mind. Considering they were in a plastic slide at three o'clock in the morning, in the cold, he felt so warm and comfortable, so safe.

He could tell Eddie did too. They didn't need anything in this world but each other.

**xxxxxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 15**

**xxxxxx**

"I can't promise this will be long term, and I don't exactly have things set up for you two... but it'll work for now, and we can make things a little nicer as we go." Mrs. Powell explained as they pulled up in front of her house.

Eddie and Richie had called her this morning from a phone at the library - mostly Richie talked to her actually - and the rest of the day had been a chaotic blur of police and doctors and other professional adults who Eddie couldn't even be sure he knew why they were there.

Eddie had tried to be truthful and cooperative, but he was reasonably scared and anxious through most of the process, and he just couldn't bring himself to submit to a full medical exam. He didn't think he had injuries down there anyway, and after Mr. Salinger's unwanted, forced exam, the thought of letting another person do basically the same thing, only very likely more invasive, made him want to vomit.

The nurse had even explained the whole procedure to him - trying to convince him... it did the opposite. When she was telling him all about how the doctor would look inside him, when she showed him the horrible medical instrument the doctor would have to use, Eddie was so tempted to just get up and leave... He couldn't even believe her explanation was supposed to ease his mind. It just made him more sure he wasn't going to agree to it. But they did allow him to say no, something that was a welcome change... even if a lot of the adults involved did seem disappointed and implied he was making a huge mistake.

Richie had been far more supportive. He stuck by Eddie's side as much as he could, held his hand during other medical examinations - ones where he got to keep his underwear on - ones he actually allowed them to do... and when everyone else looked disappointed and upset that he wouldn't allow the other exam, Richie hugged him and told him it was okay. That it was up to him, that he understood why Eddie didn't want to do it.

Now they were going to Mrs. Powell's house. Apparently she had done whatever someone needed to do to be allowed to foster kids at her own house. Eddie wished she would have taken him in sooner, but he supposed he still didn't know her that well. She was nice when she worked with him when he didn't live with her. Maybe inside her own house she'd be awful. Maybe she'd have strict rules and harsh punishments.

Maybe she would end up hating the way he put his clothes away or would get mad if he got up to pee in the middle of the night and accidentally left a light on. Perhaps Eddie would use more hot water to shower than she wanted him to, or he'd put the dishes away wrong. Maybe she didn't realize how annoying he could be. Maybe she'd hit him or burn him, make him take cold showers once she figured out she hated him.

As Mrs. Powell put her car into park, she turned around in her seat and smiled softly back at Eddie and Richie. "I want you both to know I'm really proud of you. You've been through a lot, and it was scary... It's hard to know what to do in situations like that, even for adults... You're just kids... You were so brave. Both of you. And you're so kind to each other. I know the circumstances under which you met weren't ideal, but I'm glad you two ended up together."

"Me too, Miss." Richie smiled and hugged his arm around Eddie's shoulders. "Thanks for letting us stay with you. Even if it's not forever."

"Well, we'll see. I'm not opposed to adoption, but it is a long and complicated process. I don't want to make any promises. You'll be safe for now at least." Mrs. Powell smiled. "Why don't we head inside?"

Eddie swallowed nervously and followed Richie, who followed Mrs. Powell up the stairs of her house.

"I'm home, Jim!" Mrs. Powell called out when they entered the house. "I've got the boys with me."

Eddie squeezed Richie's hand and hid part way behind him. Who the hell was Jim?

"Boys, this is my husband, Jim. You can call him that, or Mr. Powell. Jim, this is Richie and Eddie." Mrs. Powell introduced them when a tall man walked into the hall from the other room. He looked kind of mean, or at least kind of uncomfortable.

"Hey, kids." He spoke in a somewhat low voice. He looked like he felt awkward. Eddie certainly did...

"Hi." Richie said back.

Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't know Mrs. Powell had a husband. When he used to ride around in her car with her going to meetings with potential foster parents or to doctor checkups or dentist appointments, there was never a Mr. Powell. Of course, that was when Mrs. Powell was working. Of course her husband wouldn't have been riding around with her at work.

Eddie kind of always thought she'd live in a cute little cottage all by herself. Maybe with a cat. Not a husband. It kind of made the thought of her adopting him and the two of them living happily ever after seem a lot less promising. Eddie hadn't had a lot of good experiences with foster-parents, especially not foster-fathers.

"I uh... think I'm gonna go get ready for bed, Sarah... So... See you kids in the morning." Mr. Powell forced a tight-lipped smile and headed upstairs.

Mrs. Powell laughed softly and shook her head as she watched him go. "He's a good man. He's just kind of awkward around kids. He'll warm up when he gets to know you better."

Eddie stared at the man's back as he reached the top of the stairs. His shoulders were broad. His arms were kind of thick with muscles. He could hurt someone pretty easy if he chose to.

"So I have a couple bed rooms - they're not much yet, but we can work on them more tomorrow. I didn't know you were coming until today and I haven't been home, so you'll have to excuse the mess." She explained as she led them into a room down the hall, sort of below the stair case. "This one I've kind of been using as a storage space..." She moved a couple boxes off the bed as she talked. "We can fix it up more tomorrow. It is a bed room... I just haven't had a need to use it. It'll look much nicer when we get all these boxes out, clean out the dresser, get some cute curtains..."

Eddie looked around the room, glancing toward the door knob on the door. There was no lock. He wondered if the other bed room had one.

"Other room's upstairs. I'll let the two of you choose who wants which if you promise not to argue." She went on, leading them back down the hallway and up the stairs Mr. Powell had just gone up a minute earlier.

Eddie looked over at Richie who smiled back at him. "Promise not to argue?" Richie laughed.

Eddie forced a small smile. He was glad Richie was with him this time. It was always scary moving in with new people, but having Richie here made him feel a lot more secure. Still not totally safe, of course, but more than ever before.

"We've used this one more, as a guest room when my daughter visits." Mrs. Powell explained as she opened the door of the second bed room. "It looks nicer right now, but the other is just as big and they'll both be nice when we get the other one cleaned out and spruced up."

Eddie looked around the room. There was a bed, a dresser, and an end-table with a lamp on it by the bed. There was even a shelf of books - more books than Mr. Salinger's 'library' had. He glanced back at the door. No lock.

"Which one do you want, Eds?" Richie asked. "I'll let you pick."

Eddie smiled back at him. "You sure?" This room looked so much more inviting than the other one.

"Yeah." Richie nodded.

"I like this one." Eddie spoke in a low voice.

"Okay. I'll take the other one." Richie smiled.

"Great." Mrs. Powell smiled too. "I'll show you around a little bit more before we all head off to bed. I know you boys must be really tired." She led them back down the hallway. "Bathroom's right here. There's a half-bathroom downstairs."

"What the hell is a half-bathroom?" Richie frowned.

"Oh... Sweetie, could you watch your language, please?" Mrs. Powell frowned. "A half-bathroom doesn't have a shower. So just a toilet and sink."

"Sorry..." Richie frowned.

"It's okay." Mrs. Powell promised. "The half-bathroom is across from your room, Richie. Then down here..." She walked on, down the stairs and toward a kitchen. "Is the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge and cabinets... Uh... Don't cook anything without asking for now... but we have some snacks if you get hungry between meals. I try to keep apples, oranges, and bananas around, but sometimes I get so exhausted with work and don't make it to the grocery store... We should have crackers or something at the very least. It's just been me and Jim here, so we'll have to go to the store sometime and get some of your favorites."

Eddie smiled slightly, hoping this wasn't another honeymoon phase situation. He felt like he knew Mrs. Powell better than any other person whose house he had ever moved in to. He felt like she was being genuine here.

"So... Go ahead and take a shower if you'd like, or you can in the morning if you'd rather. Make yourselves at home. I can drive you to school in the mornings, but you'll have to walk back because I work until five. It's not too far, but we can talk over the route back home in the morning if you think you might get lost." Mrs. Powell explained.

"Thanks, Ma'am." Richie smiled at her. Eddie nodded silently. He always felt like he could hardly manage to speak whenever he moved in somewhere new, and apparently that applied to Mrs. Powell's house too. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind.

"I'll wake you guys up tomorrow morning at about seven if that's okay. There's alarm clocks in each of the rooms though if you'd prefer to use them." Mrs. Powell told them. "Anything else before I head up to bed?"

Eddie shook his head no.

"I think we're good." Richie agreed.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as soon as Mrs. Powell was gone. He swallowed as he looked up the stairs. His bed room was up there. Very far from Richie's... Without a lock on the door. Mr. Powell was up there too. Eddie didn't know him... but he knew he was pretty big. He looked strong. And he seemed very serious.

A vision flashed through Eddie's mind of himself in his room, all alone in the dark, hiding under his blankets, unable to sleep... Mr. Powell might come in at night, tell Eddie he needed to keep quiet or else Mrs. Powell would kick them out. They'd have to go back to Mr. Salinger... Then Mr. Powell would walk over to the bed, climb under the blankets... Eddie bet he would hardly even say anything. He'd just start touching Eddie, knowing Eddie wasn't strong enough to fight back. He probably wouldn't be mocking or talkative like Patrick, or violent and rough like Eddie's former foster-dad. He'd probably just take what he wanted, calmly and silently.

"You okay, Eds?" Richie's voice brought Eddie back to reality.

Eddie blinked and exhaled, still staring up the stairs silently. "I um..." He breathed, licking his lips nervously. "I don't know if I can go up there..." He whispered.

Richie frowned as he leaned in front of Eddie, looking at the smaller boy's face with furrowed brows. "What's wrong?" Richie wondered.

Eddie shook his head. "I know it's dumb..." He whispered. "I just..." He trailed off.

"Do you want me to walk up there with you?" Richie frowned.

Eddie shook his head no.

"Do you want to switch rooms? You don't like yours being up there?" Richie guessed.

Eddie shook his head no. That wouldn't help. Mr. Powell could walk downstairs into the other room too. "No... It's just... I don't know Mr. Powell... I know he's probably fine..." Eddie started. Mr. Powell hadn't done anything wrong besides look intimidating by being tall, strong-looking, and serious-looking. Eddie realized he wasn't being fair, but he was still nervous. "I don't know him, Richie..." He whispered.

"Oh... Okay..." Richie nodded. "You're right. We don't know him."

"He's probably fine." Eddie repeated, staring nervously up the stairs. "But what if he isn't?"

"Do you want to sleep in the same room as me?" Richie suggested. "Just until we know it's safe?"

Eddie nodded, feeling tears in his eyes as Richie wrapped an arm around him and hugged him. He felt so stupid. Mr. Powell was seriously probably a really nice guy. Mrs. Powell wouldn't have married him otherwise. But to Eddie, he was a strange man. A tall, strong, strange man, living in a house without locks on the bedroom doors.

"You're okay, Eds." Richie promised, hugging Eddie closer. "We're gonna be alright. Mr. Powell is probably fine, like you said... but until we're sure, just stick close to me. I'll make sure you're safe."

**xxxxxx**


	16. Chapter 16

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 16**

**xxxxxx**

It had been a little over a week since he and Richie moved in with the Powells. Eddie was feeling much more comfortable, but still felt like he had a lot of room to further grow in regard to trusting anyone other than Richie and Mrs. Powell.

Mrs. Powell had actually been so nice Eddie could hardly believe it... and it didn't go away after a few days. Of course, she still had time to change her mind, to stop caring, to become abusive like everyone else... but so far it looked promising.

She had taken Richie and Eddie shopping on the weekend, buying curtains for Richie's room, new sheets and comforters for both of the rooms, and some clothing for each of them. Eddie got his own jacket - one that actually fit him. And shoes without holes in them. She bought them each a back pack too, and some school supplies. She even took them to a comic book store and bought them each a few comics.

For once, Eddie felt kind of like a normal person. He didn't have to worry about being cold walking home from school, or about misplacing his one and only pencil and having to steal one from someone else to do his homework. He owned some unnecessary possessions, bought for him not because DCFS said Mrs. Powell had to provide them, but just because she wanted Eddie to feel happy and entertained. Eddie had never owned his own comics before - he had borrowed some from an almost forgotten foster-brother once, but he had to give them back when he moved out.

Now he had possessions of his own. If he moved out, he'd take them with him. They were his.

Eddie was starting to feel unusually secure in his life here. But he did still do things that he knew were annoying and clingy and weird. He was waiting on Richie to tell him to fuck off, but Richie hadn't yet. When Eddie asked Richie to stand outside the bathroom while Eddie took a shower, Richie gladly did it without complaint. Eddie wouldn't get dressed or undressed unless Richie left the room and stood outside the door. Richie didn't seem to mind that the smaller boy still wouldn't sleep in his own bed.

One night Eddie woke up crying and screaming from a nightmare, and Richie wasn't mad that Eddie had kicked him in his sleep and woken him up. He hugged Eddie and talked to him until he fell back asleep.

Another night Eddie woke up and he really, really had to pee. As much as he tried to hold it and wait until morning, he just couldn't. So he woke up Richie and asked him to go with him. It was just across the hall from Richie's room. Eddie knew he was being fucking ridiculous, but he was scared. What if Mr. Powell had been waiting every single night for the chance to catch Eddie alone in the dark. What if he was outside the bedroom, waiting for his opportunity?

Eddie realized it was improbable... but it wasn't impossible. Other people in his past seemed willing to sit and wait for the chance to hurt him. Patrick certainly did.

Richie wasn't mad that night either. He got up out of bed and walked across the hall with Eddie, checked the bathroom before sending Eddie in... And he stood outside in the hall wand waited for Eddie to be finished.

Eddie had felt so bad, so weak and annoying... But Richie didn't mind. The other boy hugged him that night, when Eddie expressed that he felt guilty and weak for requiring so much reassurance and support. Richie told him it was okay, that he loved him. Eddie had felt so warm and protected... He realized he loved Richie too - more than he'd ever loved anyone. They were like brothers - like actual brothers. Not foster-siblings. Richie actually cared about Eddie, on such a deep level, and Eddie felt the same back. He'd never felt this protected and cared for by anyone in his whole life.

As far as Eddie knew, Patrick, Henry, and Mr. Salinger weren't being held by the police. There was an open investigation, but they were free. Eddie wasn't sure if Henry or Mr. Salinger had even done anything bad enough to face jail time.

Henry was rough... but he was also seventeen years old. He wasn't even an adult... and could a teenager really get in that much trouble just for punching someone? That's kind of all he had done... Kids beat each other up all the time without getting in real trouble.

And Mr. Salinger... of course, what he did wasn't appropriate, but was it illegal? Was it sexual assault? Richie seemed to think it was. Eddie wasn't sure. If was awful. It was scary. He knew that much. Mr. Salinger had forced him to bend over without any clothes on. He put his hands on him... Eddie had been completely naked. He didn't want Mr. Salinger to look at him or touch him, but Mr. Salinger didn't leave him a choice.

Eddie wasn't so scared of Mr. Salinger at this point though. He didn't think the man had sinister intentions when he did what he did. Eddie was pretty sure he just didn't want to get in trouble. He just wanted to make sure Eddie wasn't hurt in an obvious way. It wasn't like he really wanted to touch Eddie and would come back to finish what he started or to seek revenge. Patrick and Henry might - especially Patrick. Eddie couldn't get that possibility out of his head. Patrick had been so cruel, so rough, so relentless... and he was still free. Maybe he'd been watching Eddie and Richie, waiting for Eddie to be alone somewhere. That wasn't fucking going to happen. He and Richie went everywhere together.

They were walking home from school now. They had plans to make a snack and work on their English projects together. Richie still didn't seem to understand the point of the play they were reading, so Eddie agreed to help him with his project.

"Do you think Mrs. Powell's gonna order takeout again?" Richie asked as they walked.

"Probably." Eddie laughed. That was the one thing that had kind of dissolved after the first few days of them living there - that she couldn't be bothered to cook meals. As far as Eddie was concerned, that being her biggest fault was pretty fucking okay. Mrs. Powell wasn't going to win any awards for being being a picture-perfect wife and mother, but she sure as hell was better than anyone else Eddie had ever lived with in his entire life.

"I'm kinda getting sick of it to be honest." Richie noted. "It was cool at first, but there's only so many places to eat... We've had so much fucking pizza this week. For once I think I could go for a fucking salad or something. Like a vegetable of some kind. Damn."

"The pizza place has salads." Eddie noted with a shrug. "We can ask if she'll order one."

"I'm just gonna ask if she gives us twenty dollars if we can just go to the store and buy some carrot sticks and fruit and shit." Richie suggested. "I think she just doesn't want to go to the store... so if we offer to do it after school, she'll probably be glad to give us the money."

"Probably." Eddie agreed as they made their way up the front steps.

Eddie shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up near the front door on one of several hooks the Powells had lined up just for such things. He noticed Richie shrug out of his jacket and throw it on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

"I'm gonna go make us some peanut butter and jelly." Richie spoke up, throwing his back pack on the floor. "You want milk or juice with yours? The orange juice is getting a little old."

"I'll have milk, Richie. Thanks." Eddie answered, picking up Richie's back pack and making his way into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Powell weren't home at the moment, so Eddie felt a lot more comfortable moving around the house by himself. He realized it wasn't fair - that Mr. Powell was probably a really nice person... but Eddie just couldn't be too sure. He'd trusted people too fast in the past, and was determined not to make the same mistake again.

Eddie unzipped Richie's back pack and took out his books, placing them neatly on the coffee table, then did the same with his own. They had to prepare speeches about a theme in The Taming of the Shrew. He had some ideas for his own, and was willing to give one of his ideas to Richie since the other boy seemed so lost when it came to this particular assignment.

Eddie looked up over his shoulder when he heard Richie making his way into the room. "Damn, that was fast-" He started, cutting himself off with a short, sharp breath when he saw it wasn't Richie after all.

"Patrick..." Eddie whispered, barely able to produce sound out of his mouth as he stared breathlessly at the older boy. "Wh-what are-"

"Shhh. Shut up." Patrick growled, effectively silencing Eddie in mid-sentence. Eddie looked him up and down. He had a knife in one hand, and rope and duct tape in the other.

Eddie shook his head, taking a step back. How the hell did Patrick get in here? The door was locked when he and Richie got home...

Eddie breathed in a shaking breath as he heard commotion from the other room, the sound of a plate breaking, the sound of a struggle, maybe someone being hit. "Richie!" Eddie shouted, immediately heading toward the kitchen, trying to dart around Patrick, but failing.

"I said shut up!" Patrick growled, reaching out and grabbing Eddie before he could make it past him. He punched Eddie hard across the face, then grabbed him again before he could fall, dragging him over to the couch and shoving him down onto it.

"Stop!" Eddie whimpered when Patrick climbed on top of him, turning him around and twisting his arms behind his back. "Richie!" Eddie screamed. He hoped his friend was okay. He hadn't heard anything but struggling, things breaking and being slammed around. Richie hadn't said anything.

Eddie moaned in pain as Patrick wrapped his rope cruelly around Eddie's wrists, securing them tightly behind his back. As soon as his arms were firmly bound behind him, Eddie felt himself being turned back over.

"Patrick, please! Please let us go!" Eddie sobbed.

"Shut the fuck up. Your loud mouth has gotten me into so much fucking trouble." Patrick growled, pulling a strip of tape off the roll of duct tape he'd brought and tearing it with his teeth.

"Don't! Richie, help!" Eddie screamed, trying to turn his face to the side. "Rich-" He was cut off when Patrick slapped the piece of tape over his mouth, pressing it painfully down with his hand.

"I will fucking kill you." Patrick growled, pressing the blade of his knife against Eddie's throat.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shrink back as he whimpered shakily.

"I mean it, Pretty Boy. I'll cut your fucking throat. I won't think twice. Don't you fight me anymore. I will not hesitate to slice your neck so deep your head'll practically come off." Patrick threatened, pressing the knife even closer.

Eddie winced, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter as he felt tears spilling from them. He didn't really have any room to argue or fight back. Patrick had been pretty quick to immobilize and silence him.

The next thing he knew, Eddie was being violently pulled up off the couch and dragged toward the dining room. He sobbed breathlessly as Patrick pulled him along.

"Eddie!" Richie's shaking voice shouted as Patrick dragged Eddie into the dining room.

Eddie looked up to see Richie was being tied securely to one of the dining room chairs. Richie had blood coming from his mouth and nose, like he had been hit pretty hard a couple times to get him to hold still. Henry was hovering over him and a gun was on the table nearby. Eddie's heart felt like it stopped as his eyes lingered on the metallic object, lying still on the table, pointed toward Richie. How the hell had Henry come into possession of an actual gun?

"Patrick, please don't..." Richie breathed. His mouth wasn't taped up yet. He let out a pained wince as Henry tightened the ropes on his arms behind him. "Please let him go. He didn't do anything wrong. Please don't hurt him."

Eddie felt himself shaking as he remained still, with Patrick's harsh hands holding him in place by his arms. He didn't know what to do. Henry had a gun. Patrick had a knife... He and Richie were both tied up. How the hell were they going to get out of this?

"You two got us in a lot of trouble." Patrick breathed into Eddie's ear.

Eddie whimpered and shrunk down.

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" Patrick growled, shaking Eddie for emphasis. "I told you to fucking keep quiet. Then you cry and scream when four-eyes over there knocks on the bathroom door... And even after that, you didn't have the fucking sense to just shut up?"

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed softly as he felt Patrick's hands around his arms tighten even more.

"He didn't tell! I did!" Richie breathed, his voice shaking. "Patrick, please... If you wanna hurt someone, hurt me. He didn't want to tell. I practically forced him to. It was all me. You kept doing things to him that I saw. I'm the one who told."

"I'm not afraid to fucking kill someone." Patrick growled, squeezing his hands even tighter if it was possible.

Eddie choked out a pained whimper, opening his eyes back up and looking toward Richie. He wondered if Patrick and Henry would kill them. Maybe this was going to be the last time he ever saw Richie, or anything at all.

"I've done it before." Patrick added.

Eddie felt his stomach do a flip as he tried to look up at Patrick behind him. Was he serious? Eddie looked back ahead of himself, at Richie and Henry, who also both looked pretty shocked.

"Did you really?" Henry frowned.

"Yeah. My parents. The house fire..." Patrick spoke very calmly. "I burnt it down. They got mad at me for not doing chores. They yelled at me and made me clean up the kitchen... I cleaned it. I cleaned it real fuckin' good while they hovered over me like fuckin' prison guards, watching to make sure it was done right. It was so fucking demeaning. I was so god damned mad... So that night, after they went to bed I lit the fucking kitchen on fire... I put chairs in front of their bedroom door and in the hallway so they'd have a real hard time getting out. Poured lighter fluid all over the hallway leading to their room, put lighter-fluid covered dish towels all over the top of the stove, lit it up, went out to my tree house and watched it burn."

Henry laughed, staring with huge eyes. "Seriously? Weren't you like twelve?"

"Yeah." Patrick shrugged. "Killed my baby brother before that too, when they were so fucking up his ass like they loved him more than me. Smothered him. Acted surprised when they found him dead in his crib later. No one ever knew."

"Why the fuck are you telling us this?" Richie breathed.

"Because I know you won't tell." Patrick answered.

Richie exhaled a small breath, making eye-contact with Eddie for a moment. "Okay... You're right. We won't tell... J-just let us go, and we won't-" He was cut off suddenly when Henry balled his hand into a fist and slammed it hard down against his ribs.

Eddie let out a muffled scream from under the tape over his mouth. He wanted to beg Henry to stop, but he couldn't even do that.

"You won't tell because you're gonna both be dead." Patrick laughed. "I'm gonna do whatever I want to both of you, then you're gonna die."

Henry looked back at Patrick with a frown. Maybe he didn't know Patrick was planning on killing them. Maybe he was trying to see if Patrick was bluffing. Eddie hoped he was.

"Patrick..." Richie breathed, his voice shaking. "There's not any good evidence against you right now. Just me and Eddie's word against yours. He had bruises, but those could have come from anywhere. You could still get away with all of it... But not if you kill us..."

Patrick shook his head. "I'm not stupid. I know you'll just tell again. I'm not leaving you room to tell this time. Maybe this house will accidentally burn too." He pulled Eddie back away from him, then punched him hard in his stomach.

Eddie tried to breathe in a shaking, pained breath, but he didn't feel like any oxygen was reaching his lungs. He let himself fall down to the floor, but Patrick was quick to pull him right back up to his feet, only to hit him again, even harder.

"Patrick, stop!" Richie screamed, whimpering a pained cry of his own when Henry hit him across the face with the end of his gun.

Eddie whimpered breathless sobs as he tried to focus on Richie, tried to see if his friend was okay. It hurt him so bad to know Richie was right there, being hurt, and Eddie couldn't help him. He couldn't even speak to beg Henry to stop. He couldn't do anything.

"Gimme the gun." Patrick growled, dragging Eddie over toward Henry and taking the gun from him.

Eddie shrunk down, whimpering pained, terrified, wheezing breaths as Patrick pressed the gun painfully up against the bottom of his chin.

"Stop!" Richie begged. "Patrick, please!"

"I won't kill him yet." Patrick breathed, pressing the gun harder against Eddie's jaw. "Not until I get what I want outta him."

Sobbing breathlessly, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what Patrick was talking about. There was only one thing on the older boy's mind. One thing he kept trying to do. The thing Eddie always somehow got out of at the last minute, by very well-placed interruptions.

"Nothing's gonna stop me this time." Patrick growled, shoving Eddie hard back against the wall and then slamming the side of the gun across his face.

Eddie whimpered and slid down to the floor. His vision blurred at the edges. He felt both pain and numbness all over. He was so close to passing out. He supposed it was for the best though. If Patrick was going to hurt him while he was tied up and defenseless, he supposed he'd rather be unconscious during it.

**xxxxxx**


	17. Chapter 17

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 17**

**xxxxxx**

Richie watched in horror as Patrick dragged Eddie up off the floor. The smaller boy was pretty much limp. He wasn't even trying to fight back anymore. Blood oozed down from Eddie's nose, over the tape covering his mouth. His eyes were mostly closed and his breaths were shallow.

"Patrick, please..." Richie shook his head, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He promised to protect Eddie... but there was nothing he could do right now. Eddie was so scared, and Richie had assured him so many times that he'd be safe now, since Richie was there to make sure of it. But Richie was powerless now. He'd made a promise to keep Eddie safe. It was a hollow promise. He wasn't doing it.

"Give me my gun back, Pat." Henry demanded. Patrick slid it across the table and Henry took it, pressing it threateningly up against Richie's jaw. "Stop bitching or I'll shoot you." He threatened.

"I couldn't believe he was thirteen when I met him." Patrick breathed.

"He looks like he's like eight." Henry laughed, putting his hand down on Richie's shoulder. "Patrick's like a total fucking pedo, so he loves that your boyfriend here looks like a third grader." He noted.

"I am not." Patrick growled. "You were gonna fuck him too that one day. You wanted a blow job."

"Not really." Henry laughed. "I was just fuckin' with him. I just wanted to scare him. I wouldn't have made him do it. I don't want no little fuckin' boy sucking on my dick. That's fucking gross."

Patrick glared, but shook his head. "I don't care, Henry. I'm doing this." He spoke as he dragged Eddie toward the dining room table.

"I'm the one who told on you. He wouldn't even let the doctor look at him. It's my fault you got in trouble! I'm the one who told!" Richie persisted. "Please don't hurt him!"

Patrick scoffed, rolling his eyes as he shoved Eddie rather hard face-down against the table. The younger boy let out a tiny, pained whimper. His breaths were so small and shaky. All of this seemed to have triggered an asthma attack, and Eddie's mouth was covered with tape, which definitely was making it worse.

"Oh my god, Patrick, please!" Richie's voice shook. "He can hardly breathe... Please stop... Whatever you want to do to him, just do it to me! I'm the one who told on you! It was me, damn it! Eddie didn't want to tell! It was my idea to tell... So just do it to me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, faggot?" Patrick growled, placing his hand on Eddie's head to hold him down, even though the smaller boy wasn't even struggling at this point.

"Eddie!" Richie cried out, trying to see if his friend was even still conscious. His breaths sounded so painful, so weak.

Eddie opened his eyes halfway. They looked unfocused. The smaller boy whimpered softly, clearly in a lot of pain as he breathed in tiny, wheezing breaths through his nose.

"Patrick, he can't breathe!" Richie warned. "Please... He needs his inhaler. Please..."

"Does it look like I give a shit? I'm gonna fuck him up the ass and then cut his throat... So if he dies before I get there, whatever." Patrick laughed. "I probably won't even notice. I'm sure his little ass will stay warm and tight for ten minutes even if he dies."

"Try to breathe, Eds." Richie's voice shook as he watched Eddie's eyes closed. At least it seemed like he wasn't going to be fully aware during this. Richie hoped Patrick and Henry wouldn't really kill them. "Patrick, you don't have to do this... I won't fight back if you do it to me instead..." Richie offered, choking out a tiny sob. "I'll do anything. Anything you want... Do it to me instead and I won't fight at all."

"He's not gonna fight back either, clearly." Patrick laughed, running his hand down over Eddie's back, over his bound hands, and toward the waist of his pants, tugging them down in one quick motion. "I've been wanting to do this for two weeks... I was moving slow with him, trying to be gentle... and look where it got me. I should'a just plowed right into him that first night. I could have. Before you got there. Damn. I'd have had all night. His asthma was fuckin' with his breathing and I pitied him and didn't do much... But I should have. I wouldn't have even had to hold him down or put my hand over his mouth. He could barely breathe. I could'a just flipped him over and rammed him."

Richie gritted his teeth as he stared daggers in Patrick's direction. "You're such a gross fucking piece of shit, Patrick." He growled. "You're weak and pathetic... and just fucking disgusting. You're actual fucking garbage."

Patrick let out a small laugh. "Keep talking, Trashmouth. I'll just fuck him longer. I'll tear him up so bad he'll have no choice but to die... because there won't be a way to fucking fix it." Richie watched as Patrick spit on his fingertips, rubbed the saliva between his fingers, then reached down behind Eddie, seemingly forcing his fingers up into him. "Still really fuckin' tight." Patrick smirked, staring directly at Richie. "Just as tight as the first time I ever did this - which might have been the first time anyone ever did this to him. I might'a popped his ass cherry." Patrick smirked.

Eddie let out a soft groaning sound as he flinched very slightly. His face looked worried, somewhat pained, but his eyes were still closed as quiet tears streamed down his cheeks. His breaths were so wheezy Richie seriously worried he might die from suffocation before Patrick ever finished what he planned on doing to him.

"You know, it probably won't even hurt him that bad unless I go out of my way to be rough as hell." Patrick noted as he slid his fingers in and out. Richie couldn't see every detail of what he was doing, but could guess based on the older boy's arm moving rhythmically while his hand was out of sight down behind Eddie. He could tell the gesture was uncomfortable for Eddie too, based on the smaller boy's occasional flinching and shaking moans between wheezing, pained breaths.

"Patrick, please... You can do it to me as long as you want..." Richie's voice shook. He'd so much rather face this himself than watch Eddie have to suffer again. Eddie had been through so fucking much already. This was devastating.

"What's wrong with you?" Henry laughed, leaning down toward Richie's ear. "You really want Patrick to fuck you, huh? You like fingers and dicks in your asshole, fag?"

Richie ignored Henry, leaning away as far as he could. "Patrick, please. Please stop!" Richie begged.

"The human anus actually can stretch really far before any real damage is done if you're careful. Not saying I'm gonna necessarily be careful." Patrick added with a laugh. "Doesn't matter anyway since he's gonna die after." He reached down and unzipped his pants, taking his penis out in his hand and positioning himself behind Eddie, who seemed to be completely passed out by this point. Patrick spit on his hand again, rubbing saliva onto himself.

"You seriously gonna let him do this?" Richie breathed, looking up toward Henry. "You're gonna sit back and watch this? Eddie's a fucking child. If you let Patrick do this, you're just as bad!"

"I don't care what he does." Henry shook his head.

"Eddie!" Richie's voice trembled as he stared at his friend. He couldn't tell if Eddie was breathing anymore. He was so still, so quiet. "Eddie, please wake up..." Richie whimpered. Of course, he didn't want Eddie to have to be awake while Patrick hurt him... He just wanted to know the smaller boy was still breathing.

"This oughtta wake him up." Patrick smirked, slowly forcing himself up into Eddie's body.

Eddie flinched and let out a tiny groaning sound, but his eyes squeezed tighter rather than opening.

Patrick grunted as he forced himself in deeper. "God... He's fuckin' tight." He noted. "I still can't decide if I like this better or pussy."

"Stop!" Richie screamed, thrashing in the chair he was tied down to. "Fucking stop it! Heelllp! Help us! Heeellllpp!" He screamed, kicking out as he struggled to get free.

"Shut him up." Patrick growled, grabbing his hand around Eddie's upper arm, pulling out and thrusting into him roughly. He grunted again as Eddie choked out a shaking moan.

Henry slammed his hand over Richie's mouth, pulling his head painfully back as he pressed his gun threateningly against Richie's head. Richie heard another weak whimper come from Eddie's mouth, stifled by the tape keeping him silent.

Richie continued trying to scream as he flailed around as much as he could, which wasn't much. He didn't care if Henry shot him. According to Patrick, they were going to kill them both anyway.

Richie's ears perked up when he swore he heard the front door open. He twisted his lips and managed to bite Henry's finger, giving him the tiny window he needed to start screaming again. "Heelllp!" He yelled before Henry punched him across the face.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Mr. Powell's ordinarily low, calm voice boomed as he made his way into the dining room.

"Fuck!" Henry breathed, letting go of Richie and making a run for it.

"Who the hell-" Mr. Powell trailed off. "Get the fuck off of him!" He ran immediately to Eddie's side.

"God damn it!" Patrick hissed, grabbing his knife up off the table and taking off after Henry.

"Oh my god... Eddie..." Mr. Powell breathed, grabbing Eddie off the table and lowering him gently to the ground. He took off his jacket and draped it over Eddie's lap as he checked the boy's pulse.

"Is he okay?" Richie's voice shook. "Mr. Powell, is he breathing? Is he okay?"

Mr. Powell exhaled a shaking breath. "He's breathing. I'm gonna go call 911. Hang tight, Richie." He grabbed Richie's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze on his way out of the room.

Richie breathed a shaking breath as he stared at Eddie across the room. Eddie was still lying very still, but his chest rose and fell slightly. It was worrying that Richie could barely hear a noise from him though. Eddie normally breathed in such a way that he was practically panting and hyperventilating when he was scared. He was so silent now.

"Eds! Wake up, Eds." Richie called out. "Please wake up. Please be okay..."

Eddie's head lolled to the side and he let out a tiny, shaking moan, then started choking very pained sounding, strained breaths. The tape was definitely preventing a lot of air from reaching his lungs. Richie could see Eddie struggling to open his eyes as he wheezed painfully.

"Eddie!" Richie pulled at his trapped wrists again. "Mr. Powell! He needs his inhaler!" Richie screamed. Eddie's mouth was still taped. He clearly could barely breathe. "Mr. Powell!"

Richie heard his own heart pounding in his ears as he stared breathlessly at Eddie, who choked weakly on the floor. Eddie was visibly shaking, flinching very slightly as he struggled to breathe. He needed his inhaler, like now.

"Mr. Powell, please hurry!" Richie sobbed, pulling at his wrists so bad they hurt. "Breathe, Eds. Just go slow. Breathe in and out, Eddie, please! Try to breathe. You can do it, Eds. Please don't die!"

Richie felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked over his shoulder. What was taking Mr. Powell so long? Why wasn't he coming back?

Richie looked back toward Eddie, who was almost completely still, with his eyes closed. The only movement to be seen in the smaller boy was the very slight rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled tiny, wheezing breaths.

"Hold on, Eds. Keep breathing. You're gonna be okay..." Richie's voice shook horribly. He could barely even understand himself. "Hang on, Eddie. Breathe in and out. You're gonna be fine..."

Richie didn't know if that was true, but he couldn't let himself even consider that Eddie wouldn't survive this. He couldn't die... Not after all of this. He'd been through so fucking much...

**xxxxxx**


	18. Chapter 18

**xxxxxx**

**Chapter 18**

**xxxxxx**

Eddie's entire world was dark. His breaths were shallow, barely even there. His lungs burned. He felt a dull pain sensation all over his entire being. His eyes were either closed, or he was blind.

He could vaguely hear Richie's voice, but it sounded so muffled. Another voice was closer. It wasn't Patrick or Henry. It was a man. It was low and serious. Was it Mr. Powell? That didn't make sense. No one was home but Eddie and Richie... But then, the last thing he knew, Patrick was holding him down against the table, hurting him. That wasn't happening anymore. A chunk of time had gone by that Eddie couldn't account for. He was on the floor now, with a man's strong, but gentle hands holding onto him. He was scared. Was it Mr. Powell? Was Mr. Powell going to respond to this how Mr. Salinger did? With anger, accusations, a humiliating physical examination?

Eddie choked painfully and tried to turn his head to the side as he felt hands dragging him up into a sitting position. He felt a hand on his back and something hard pressed up against his lips.

"Stop-" He choked out weakly, realizing the tape was gone off of his mouth. Someone took it off at some point. A huge amount of time was missing from his mind. What the hell had happened...? The last thing he remembered, Patrick had him bent over the table. Eddie's consciousness was in and out during that. He felt pain down between his legs, but couldn't manage to open his eyes or even really flinch away.

Now he was on the floor. The tape was gone from his mouth. He didn't feel the sharp pain concentrated down below, just a dull pain coursing through his whole body, and a more concentrated pain in his lungs.

"Try to breathe, Eddie. You got this." Mr. Powell's voice spoke very close.

Eddie choked out a shaking, panicked, wheezing breath as he shook his head and shrunk back. He still didn't trust Mr. Powell. When did the man even get here? "Let go of me..." Eddie choked weakly.

"It's just your inhaler, son. Try to breathe. You gotta breathe, kid." Mr. Powell urged, pressing the inhaler back toward Eddie's lips. "I'm not gonna hurt you. It's just your inhaler."

Eddie whimpered, opening his mouth shakily so Mr. Powell could put the inhaler back. He couldn't breathe. He needed his inhaler desperately right now, so even though he was still kind of scared of Mr. Powell, he had to just deal with it. He couldn't afford to be scared right now.

"I got an ambulance coming, Eddie, so just stay calm. Try to breathe. I'm gonna push the button on this, so breathe in." Mr. Powell instructed.

Eddie inhaled and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter as Mr. Powell sprayed out a much needed puff of medicine. He coughed weakly, then leaned toward the inhaler again, silently requesting another puff. Mr. Powell seemed to understand and released more of the medicine.

"Keep breathing, kiddo. You're gonna be okay." Mr. Powell assured him, dragging him carefully toward the wall and leaning his back against it. He rested his hand on Eddie's chest as Eddie breathed in slow, shaking breaths and leaned his head back against the wall.

"You okay?" Mr. Powell asked, leaning down close, touching the side of Eddie's face to make him look up.

Eddie coughed softly and nodded, but kept his eyes closed. He felt so exhausted.

Eddie felt himself freeze as Mr. Powell's hands gripped his arms, leaning him forward. "W-what-" He managed to breathe, trying to ask Mr. Powell what he was doing. Why was he leaning him forward? To check if Patrick hurt him too bad? Was he going to do what Mr. Salinger did? "Don't touch me..." Eddie whimpered weakly.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, son. I'm just untying your hands." Mr. Powell explained.

Eddie felt Mr. Powell untangling the ropes around his wrists, then leaning him carefully back, squeezing his hands lightly. "I'm gonna go help Richie. Hang tight, kiddo. You're gonna be okay." Mr. Powell spoke, clapping Eddie's shoulder gently before standing up and walking away.

Eddie's eyes shot open. "Richie?" He whispered, looking across the room. He had almost forgotten Richie was here too, tied down, probably hurt.

"Don't worry about me, Eddie Spaghetti." Richie forced a smile, but he had tears in his eyes as Mr. Powell untied him and briefly looked him over.

"Those damn cops should have arrested those fucking lunatics." Mr. Powell grumbled, helping Richie up. "You okay, son?"

"Yeah." Richie breathed, immediately making his way over toward Eddie, squatting down in front of him, and pulling him into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Eds."

Eddie couldn't help but to choke out a tiny sob as he hugged Richie back. "I'm sorry, Richie... I got you mixed up in this... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. That's not your fault." Richie promised, pulling back and looking Eddie up and down.

Eddie took a moment to do the same, looking his own self over, frowning when he noticed Mr. Powell's coat resting on his lap. He realized now that his pants were still pulled halfway down his thighs. Frowning, he looked past Richie's shoulder, toward Mr. Powell who was looking out the window, maybe hoping to spot the ambulance he'd called.

Eddie felt himself shaking. Had Mr. Powell seen him half undressed then? He supposed it was good that the guy had just put his coat over Eddie's lap instead of looking too hard, trying to examine him himself like Mr. Salinger did.

"You okay, Eds? You think you can breathe okay now?" Richie's breathless voice brought Eddie's attention back.

"Yeah." Eddie whispered. "C-can you help me..." He trailed off, struggling to stand up partway while also holding Mr. Powell's coat up to keep himself covered.

"Of course." Richie nodded, putting his arm around Eddie's back, holding him up with one hand and holding the coat up with the other as the smaller boy shakily pulled his pants back up. "Did Patrick... D-do you think you're okay?" Richie whispered.

Eddie swallowed painfully. "I don't know..." He whispered. His mind still felt so fuzzy on those details. "I think I passed out... Did he do it very long?" Eddie whispered. "I felt him start doing it... He did his fingers first... Then he started doing it for real."

Richie forced a small smile as he shook his head no. "He didn't do it very long."

"D-do you think I have to let a doctor-" Eddie cut himself off, biting his lower lip as tears filled his eyes.

Richie shook his head no again. "Only if you want to. It's up to you, Eds. It'll be more evidence against him, and if you want to make sure you're not hurt, it'd be a good idea... but you don't have to. It's up to you."

Eddie nodded softly, sniffing back tears. He didn't know if he should allow a doctor to examine him or not. He didn't think he was seriously hurt... And Patrick admitted to killing three other people, so he was probably going to go to some kind of prison for quite some time even without evidence of this. Mr. Powell and Richie had watched him do what he just did to Eddie too, so there were more witnesses than there were to some of the other things Patrick did.

"Just think about it, Eds. You've got a little while to decide. It's not a bad idea... It would be good to make sure you're okay... To have as much evidence as possible so he can't possibly get away with this... but it's still up to you. I understand why you wouldn't want to do it. I'll stick by you and support you either way." Richie promised, hugging Eddie close again.

**... ... ... ... ...**

Once again, Eddie couldn't bring himself to allow a doctor to examine him. He felt guilty about it. He felt like he was being weak and cowardly, but he just couldn't do it. Both Richie and the Powells were supportive though. Mrs. Powell asked him more than anyone else if he was sure, but she didn't seem too mad when he refused.

The cops had come by and questioned everyone who was there individually. When Eddie talked to him, the man gave Eddie quite a bit of hope, noting that Patrick confessing to two separate people about the fire that killed his parents about about smothering his baby brother was a pretty big deal. Even if he was only still a kid when it happened, he would at the very least be sent to an institution somewhere for quite a long time.

Since Eddie was too scared to allow an evasive medical exam, they took his clothes instead, telling him there might be DNA there, and the fact that Richie and Mr. Powell saw what Patrick was doing would be pretty big evidence too. Eddie told the cops and the doctors that Patrick had spit on his fingers before forcing them up into him. That he rubbed saliva on his penis too - so they had him press his underwear up against himself before taking them off, and seemed hopeful that there might be some evidence there.

Now Eddie was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt the nurse had given him. He and Richie were sitting in a hospital bed in the emergency room, waiting on Mr. and Mrs. Powell to finish talking to the cops and for the doctors to release them.

They had examined Richie too - since Henry beat him up pretty hard. He and Eddie were actually in separate rooms separated by a curtain at first, but the hospital staff let them pull the curtain back and eventually Richie just climbed into Eddie's bed with him.

"Did you hear Mrs. Powell yelling at the cops?" Richie whispered as he leaned close to Eddie.

Eddie nodded. She had sounded so mad, accusing them of being incompetent, telling them they should have gotten Patrick and Henry off the streets immediately when Richie and Eddie initially came forward about what had happened.

Eddie had never experienced an adult defending him so fiercely before - not since his mom... whose defense was a little more complicated. She liked it when Eddie was hurt or sick, then rudely demanded the best care for him like it wasn't her fault he was sick in the first place.

Eddie blinked as he looked out past the half-closed curtain. Mrs. Powell was at the nurse's station now, seemingly being kind of difficult. Eddie couldn't help but to smirk slightly. Did that mean she actually cared about them? Like more than a social worker doing her job?

Her husband was also pretty harsh with the cops when they first got to the house, while the paramedics were quickly looking Eddie and Richie over. He said a lot of the same things his wife did. He was very angry about Patrick and Henry being allowed to walk the streets and do whatever they wanted all this time.

They weren't going to be permitted to do that anymore. That's what Eddie heard the cops tell Mr. Powell. They said each of the older boys committed very serious crimes and would be sent away for a long time for it. Even Henry. Possessing an illegal gun, threatening kids with it, breaking into a house, holding kids captive and being an accomplice to sexual assault... It was all a big deal according to the cops.

"Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Powell actually care about us?" Eddie whispered, laying his head down on Richie's shoulder.

"Yeah." Richie quickly answered with a small laugh. "Clearly. You heard her yelling at the cops."

"Even Mr. Powell did." Eddie noted. "I kind of thought he didn't like us. But he was really nice. And he didn't act like Mr. Salinger. He didn't blame me. He didn't make me let him look..."

"I think he's a good person, Eds. I know we still don't know him well, but I think he's just kind of quiet. You were sorta passed out, but he was really gentle with you. He made sure you were still breathing before he headed for the phone, then came back and helped you with your inhaler."

"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "I remember that last part. I was kind of scared... but he was nice."

Richie smiled and nodded. "Maybe we finally found a place where we fit in this world. With each other. With them." He suggested, nodding toward the hallway. "I think they actually care... like real parents. Like good real parents. Like loving ones."

Eddie nodded, blinking as he looked up at Richie. Richie hadn't ever had loving parents. Not even one.. Not that he remembered. They couldn't have loved him if they gave him up when he was three without any real reason. Surely they'd have at least made contact with him or left a note or something if they loved him even a little.

Wrapping his arms around Richie and leaning rather heavily against him, Eddie closed his eyes. He had been pretty scared for Richie's sake when Henry had the gun pressed against Richie's head. Eddie didn't know what he would have done if Henry shot him. Even though he hadn't know Richie for all that long, he felt like the boy had become his best friend, his brother.

Maybe Henry wouldn't have really killed Richie. Maybe it was just a threat, to keep him and Richie still and quiet. Maybe even Henry didn't know for sure if he'd have done it or not. Patrick seemed pretty serious though.

Eddie wondered how close he and Richie had come to dying tonight. He wondered how much Patrick would have hurt him first. How long he would have had to endure brutal, humiliating pain before Patrick would have finally cut his throat like he threatened. Eddie was practically passed out by the time Patrick started though. He couldn't breathe and was in so much pain. He probably would have never known how long Patrick would have gone for. Only Richie would have had to suffer through watching it happen. He wondered if Patrick would have killed Eddie first or Richie.

"Richie... Do you think Patrick was really gonna kill us?" Eddie blurted, looking up at Richie.

Richie frowned down at him, blinking a few times, then shrugging. "Maybe... He did confess to like three fuckin' murders. Leaving us alive after that would have been dumb. I don't think Henry planned on killing us though."

"He looked kind of shocked when Patrick said all that." Eddie noted.

"It doesn't matter." Richie shook his head. "They're both in so much fucking trouble. The cops found them. Did you catch that? They arrested them about two hours after we got here. That's what I heard one of the cops saying to Mr. Powell. They said they're going to be in prison for a really long time - especially Patrick."

Eddie smiled slightly. He hoped that was true, that the two older boys would be locked up forever, that there wouldn't be some fucked up reason that they'd both go free.

"I'm sorry, Eds." Richie spoke in a small voice after a few minutes of silence between the two of them.

Eddie frowned. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I said I'd protect you." Richie answered. "I didn't protect you."

Eddie shook his head. "There was nothing you could do... and you did protect me... So fucking much. Please don't feel bad, Richie. You've put up with so much bullshit from me."

Richie shrugged slightly.

"You have, Richie. You got up in the middle of the night because I had to pee and was too scared to walk six steps down the hallway by myself. You've been letting me sleep in your bed. You ran away with me, gave me your jacket... You told Patrick to hurt you instead." He whispered.

Richie looked away. "I couldn't stand to watch him hurt you, Eddie. I wish he'd have done it to me instead."

Eddie hugged Richie tight. "I fuckin' love you, Richie. Don't feel bad. Please don't feel bad."

Richie laughed softly. "I love you too, Eds. I know none of it was my fault... I just wish there was something I could have done."

"You did more than anyone else ever has." Eddie whispered. "I don't think anyone has ever cared that much before. Not even close... To fucking offer yourself up to be raped? Jesus Christ, Richie... I don't know if I could have done the same... I'd have wanted to be heroic and protect you, but I can't in all honestly be sure I could have offered myself up like that. I think I would have been too scared. You're so fucking brave..."

"You've been through enough, Eds." Richie whispered.

"So have you." Eddie whispered back.

Richie exhaled as he rested his cheek on Eddie's hair. "I think things are gonna be better from here. For real this time."

Eddie smiled, looking out into the hall at Mrs. Powell viciously defending him and Richie like they were her real kids, at Mr. Powell, who covered him up when he was exposed and vulnerable, who didn't pry or make him feel responsible, who helped him with his inhaler and spoke kind, gentle words while Eddie was panicked and in pain.

He looked back over at Richie, whose breaths were calm and even. His eyes were closed. Maybe he as falling asleep. His instinct was to maintain his paranoia, to not yet believe that Mr. Powell wouldn't hurt him later, to refuse to believe Mrs. Powell really cared about them. A big part of him wanted to remain guarded, but maybe this time he truly didn't have to. Maybe he had found a family. A good one. A loving one.

Maybe in his new house, it wouldn't matter that there was a foster-dad. It wouldn't matter that the bedroom doors didn't have locks. He had parental figures who actually cared now. He had Richie. Things were finally going to be okay. He was finally safe.

**xxxxxx**

**the end**

**xxxxxx**


End file.
